Send Someone To Love Me
by Beth Pryor
Summary: First in a series of 3 planned fics starting with an unusual assignment for Don. He encounters people, one in particular, who challenge him. Entourage cameos. Don&OC [but this IS Don we're talking about, so no promises] COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Send Someone To Love Me**

**Author:** Beth Pryor

**Rating:** T (probably less, but just in case)

**Summary:** This is the first in a series of three planned fics beginning with a very unusual assignment for Don. In this Entourage crossover he encounters a group of people who challenge him both professionally and personally.

**Disclaimer:** Everyone you recognize from the show(s) belongs to someone already, and it isn't me. I have no claim to anyone or anything except the characters you don't recognize, which are mine. No one is making any money off of this, especially not me.

**A/N:** This is my first story in the Numb3rs fandom. It is technically a crossover with Entourage, as some of the characters make an appearance; however, there is very little character development taking place with those characters. This is primarily a Numb3rs fic and primarily focusing on Don. Don't fear! The others are there, just in supporting roles. That being said, I encourage feedback!

**Dedication: **To Baby, who is my Superhero and to Flag, my Beta, who still reads more than I do.

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Chapter 1 

"Has anyone seen Colby?" Don asked as he entered the office and glanced over the partition of his cube and around the room. "Is he here yet?"

"His neighbor-slash-girlfriend called in about 10 minutes ago," Megan informed him. "Remember how he was feeling kind of sick yesterday before the raid on the meth lab?" Don nodded. "Well, he got worse last night with really bad pain and vomiting, and she convinced him to go to the ER. Turns out it was appendicitis. They're taking out his appendix this morning. She said he'll be out for a couple of days at least and then on desk duty for a week or so," she finished.

"Man! Now I feel bad for riding him when he said he was sick. I guess I should have known better than to joke that he was trying to get out of work." Don walked around from his desk to stand in front of Megan's.

"She did say that he was upset about missing an assignment, though. I have no idea what she was talking about. We actually have a light case load right now, and other than the identity theft thing that we're waiting on the fraud division for, I didn't think we had anything pressing left on our plate. Tons of follow-ups, of course, but no kidnappers, murders, rapists, bank robbers or drug dealers, at least not any assigned to us. Wonder what she was talking about?"

Don scratched his head and turned toward David who had walked up in the middle of Megan's discourse. "You have any idea what assignment Colby would be itching to get back to?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do," smiled David.

Don and Megan stared at him for a moment until Don asked, "Well, are you going to tell us what it is?"

"You don't know about the movie thing, Don?"

"Obviously not, David. Please enlighten us."

"He told you about it. It was cleared with Merrick's office a few weeks ago. He was supposed to be a technical advisor on a film that's going to shoot this month. They start today. You honestly don't remember?"

Don shook his head as Megan laughed. "Seriously?" she asked. "How did he work that out?"

David shrugged. "I'm not exactly sure, but I think I remember him saying that a buddy of his was in the industry somehow. I assume that guy set it up."

Don nodded. "Ok, so someone needs to call and tell him that no one is coming."

"Not so fast, Eppes." Don turned to face Assistant Director in Charge Walt Merrick, head of the Los Angeles Field Office. "Agent Granger cleared this little excursion with me, so long as your team wasn't on a top priority case or working with Homeland. You're not, and I'd like you to uphold the commitment to Warners."

Don was unable to protest his superior's decision. "I'll get someone up there right away, sir," he affirmed as he turned to find someone else who could fill in for Colby.

Merrick stopped him. "Not someone, Eppes. I'd like _you_ to do it."

"Excuse me," Don asked after a speechless moment. "You want _me _to spend a month on a movie set?"

"That's right. You're senior man in this division. I'd prefer that you handle this. You and your team turn over cases at about three times the rate of everyone else out here. I'm going to split up your folks and reassign them to other units for the month so they can show everyone else how it's done. We'll make sure that everything you have open is covered, as well."

Don stood with his mouth agape as he watched the ADIC exit the bullpen. He finally turned back to David and Megan. Their poses mimicked his. Finally Megan broke the stunned silence.

"Well, Don, looks like you're headed to Hollywood." She and David both started to laugh.

"This isn't funny, you two. As if I have nothing better to do than baby-sit a bunch of overpaid, undereducated, dumbasses attempting to handle weapons and make a film that bares some sort of semblance to what we do every day. Not to mention the fact that we have cases open, and more are sure to come in. It's bad enough that I don't even remember Colby telling me about it. It's bad enough that he's going to be out for God knows how long. Now we're all out of commission. This is unbelievable," exclaimed Don as he paced back and forth between his desk and Megan's.

David clapped Don on the shoulder. "I'm sure that if something big comes up they'll have us all back together in no time. But, for now, why don't you just consider it a paid vacation? Megan and I will be fine, and you need a break. Merrick's right. We've all been working at Mach speed here. We could all use some down time."

Megan stepped up on his other side. "I completely agree with David, Don. Some time away from here would do you a world of good. Besides, it might actually be fun."

Don scratched his eyebrow and rubbed his hand over his face. "Now you guys are making me feel bad. I don't want to leave you two here while I'm off on a 'fun, paid vacation.' That doesn't seem fair to me."

Megan spoke again. "Seriously, Don. It's fine. It's getting late, though. You'd better hit the road."

"Yeah, I guess I should," Don agreed as he glanced at his watch. "It's already 8:30. I'll be stuck in traffic forever. Call me when you get word on Colby or if you need me for anything."

"We will, Don. We promise." Megan avowed.

"I'm serious. Anything. Nothing is too insignificant."

David tapped his watch and pointed toward the door. "Get out of here, Eppes. We'll call you."

"Alright. I'm out of here." He started toward the door but turned back short of actually exiting. "Are you sure that you guys can handle everything?"

"DON!" Megan and David both exclaimed.

"Ok, I'm going." He walked out the door.

When he was in his vehicle, Don realized that he wasn't exactly sure where he was going. As he pulled out of the garage, he dialed Megan's desk.

"What, Don?" she asked when she answered.

"Where am I going?"

"It's Warner Bros. That's in Burbank, and I'm thinking the street is named for the studio. I don't know any more specifics. You'll probably just have to ask someone at the gate. Wait a second." She paused as she asked David a question. "David says to try the name Joe Halpern. That's Colby's friend."

"Right. Thanks." He hung up and joined the morning traffic. As predicted, the trip to Burbank took longer than the estimate on his GPS. During one of the more lengthy stops on the freeway, he decided to leave Charlie a message.

"Hey, Charlie. I told Dad I'd probably be over for dinner tonight, but I got a new assignment and I'm not sure how long the day will run. I'll give you a call later when I have a better idea. Anyway, I'm stuck in traffic and it's starting to move now. Bye."

Twenty-five minutes later he pulled up to the gate in front of the studio. The guard stopped him to ask him who he was there to see. Don glanced out over top of his sunglasses and displayed his badge and asked where he could find Joe Halpern. The guard flipped through his clipboard and consulted with the other two guards in the shack.

"Ok, sir. Mr. Halpern is at Sound Stage 3. When you come through the gate, go to the end of the street just ahead and turn right. There are signs directing you to the outdoor sets and sound stages. Follow those signs and there should be parking all along the way. If not, there's an overflow lot, and a shuttle will take you where you need to go. Here's a map of the studio and a parking sticker."

Don took the papers the man was holding but asked a question before he drove away. "Were you expecting me?"

The guard nodded. "The group in Sound Stage 3 has an FBI Agent listed, so I guess that's you."

"Yeah, I guess that is. Ok, thanks."

"Have a nice day, sir."

"Yeah, you too." Don mumbled as he pulled away from the gate. He stopped to allow cast and crew members to pass in front of him as he made his way across the lot as the guard had described. He pulled into an unmarked spot and locked the SUV. There didn't appear to be any additional security checkpoints, nor did there appear to be anyone coming or going from the building marked 3. He decided to try the door in front of him. He opened it and walked inside. The lights inside were considerably lower than outside and he pulled off his sunglasses. As his eyes adjusted, he took in the specifics of the room, which he estimated to be about the size of an airplane hangar. Several groups of scenery were set up along with an area off to the left that looked like an office or conference room. A group of people had gathered around the tables there so he headed toward them.

A guy clad in faded jeans, a Nirvana t-shirt, Birkenstocks and assorted hemp jewelry broke away from the group as he saw Don approach. He pushed a strand of longish blonde-brown hair behind his ear has he extended his hand to Don.

"Hey, man. You have to be the Fed. Joe Halpern."

Don shook his hand. "Don Eppes, I'm with the FBI. You're Colby's friend?"

"Yeah. I've been expecting him. What's up? He's not in some kind of trouble or anything is he?"

Don explained about Colby's sudden illness and assured the man that his friend would be fine in a few days. "They decided to send me instead. I have to tell you, though. I've never done anything like this before. I have no idea what you're expecting." Don confided.

Joe brushed aside Don's apprehension. "Nah, it's not really a big deal. Most of the guys who consult do it to possibly get some screen time and earn their SAG card. When my buddy Bobby got the call that he had been green-lighted, I called Colby and asked if he wanted to advise. I'm guessing you haven't seen a script yet, huh?"

Don shook his head. "Is the movie about the FBI?"

Joe laughed. "Yeah, two of the three leads are agents and the third is a Federal Witness in their protective custody while awaiting the trial. The working title is _Safe House_. We aren't asking for any trade secrets or anything, but we want to make sure that it's believable. Bobby figures you guys will be a big part of our target audience, so we want to make sure we don't have any glaring mistakes."

"Ok, yeah. I think I can handle that. So is this a big-budget thriller or something?" Don asked.

Again Joe laughed. "You've never been on a movie set before, have you?"

"Am I that bad at this already?" Don blushed. "I think the last movie I watched in a theater was _Braveheart_ or something."

"Well, you definitely have a lot to learn. But, to answer your question, no. We're considered indie, even though we're filming at a major studio. Warner does have an independent film division, but we're only marginally a part of that. Bobby's uncle is VP of popcorn sales or something, and he called in a favor to get us a soundstage and use of the lot for 30 days of shooting time as well as $750,000 from various financers. There's no distribution deal set up as of right now. That's part of the reason I called Colby. We have like no money to pay you."

Don waved his hand. "No big deal, my boss considers this 'on assignment.'" So much for movie star perks, he thought.

"On a big film there are a ton of crew members. I think we have 10 or 11, counting you. Bobby's little brother manages a Subway in Glendale, so that's our caterer. Tim, over there, usually runs a Steadicam on the sideline at Lakers games for the local FSN affiliate. This month, he's the DP."

Don turned his attention to a tall dark haired guy with black square rimmed glasses and skateboarding shoes. His curly hair poked out from the edges of his navy hoodie. Don estimated Tim's age at no more than 30 and marveled at his resemblance, somewhat physical but more the overall vibe, to Charlie. "DP?" he asked Joe.

"Director of photography. Most everyone knows it as cinematographer. He does good work. He's done some really great animated stuff over the past few years, too. He's hoping to get on at Pixar, but the Lakers job is paying the bills right now. Bobby was lucky to get him."

Don nodded and tried to pay attention as Joe rattled off names and positions for the rest of the crew. To Don, they all appeared artsy and unkempt, as well as under the age of 30. The more Joe explained the older and more out of place Don felt. Certainly the Director had no idea what he'd been sending Don to do.

"So, what do you do?" Don finally asked when he was able to get a word in.

"Stunt coordinator, although we don't really have stunt people. I guess that just means I'm in charge of choreographing fight sequences and consulting with you. I co-wrote the screenplay with Bobby, and I'm doing most of the art direction, too. Everyone has to wear a few hats." Joe explained as he led Don toward the group of kids assembled in front of him. Joe introduced Don to the entire group of about 15 people before everyone scattered across the hangar. Only Bobby and three others, an older man, a guy about Don's age and a girl, significantly younger, remained.

"Hey, thanks a lot for coming down. I hope your friend is well soon, but it's great to have you. We only have 30 days to shoot here, of which we've already used four to set up, so we really have to get started. I'm assuming you haven't read the script yet, so we'll get you a copy of that." Bobby Devlin took charge of the situation before Don could even say hello. He turned to the other two individuals still sitting at the long table. "These are our lead actors, Dominic Ramirez, Gareth Bakken and Shayne Carrigan."

The elderly man, Ramirez was right beside Don, so he turned to greet him. Bakken, a dark-haired but fair-skinned man who was playing the lead agent, stood to shake Don's hand. Even leaning across the table, Don could tell that the actor was a good bit taller than himself. Don was still unable to gauge how the man carried himself or how he would perform with a weapon in his hand. He hoped that the guy was at least a little bit athletic. That would certainly help the situation. As they shook hands, Don was impressed with the other man's firm grip and direct eye contact. He felt, at least initially, that Gareth Bakken would make a more than satisfactory FBI agent.

Shayne Carrigan, however, worried him. Petite and blonde with soft green eyes and a small, perfectly bowed mouth, she looked about as much like an agent as Little Bo Peep. She was also young and intensely pretty. Her smile was warm and inviting, but she ducked her eyes and quickly grasped and released his hand as they were introduced. Don thought that they would probably have been better off casting her as a kindergarten teacher. Yet, as she was turning away from him, she inadvertently knocked a cup off the edge of the table with her elbow. Don lunged for it, but Shayne's hand shot out quickly grabbing the cup before he could reach it or it fell, barely spilling any liquid on the floor. Don raised his eyebrows and studied this waif of a girl a little more closely. She didn't look the part, but he realized he had more to work with than he'd first assumed.

She blushed as she replaced the cup and waited for further instruction from the director. Don smiled at her, and this time the actress met his gaze and returned it with a smile of her own. Bobby offered Don and Joe seats and slid a script across to Don.

"I'm guessing you're going to need to read this first. We're going to go over some things with Gareth. Why don't you and Shayne head to the shooting range. She's a little out of practice." Bobby said as he turned to Shayne, "Then, when you get back, we'll have the walkthrough, ok?" She nodded.

Don agreed that sounded fine to him as Shayne was already collecting her jacket and bag.

"Any place in particular?" asked Don.

Bobby pondered for a second. "Um, I'm not sure. You know a place?"

Don nodded. "I have one in mind."

Bobby pulled out a wad of cash. "How much do you need?"

"A hundred should cover it," decided Don. Bobby handed over the money, and Don and Shayne headed out the door.

"Bring back the change!" Bobby called out to them as they exited.

They didn't even have an expense account? Don was pretty sure this month was going to be an adventure, but he still hadn't figured out what kind.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** I don't know anything about guns. I shot one once, though. In my Easter dress. Also, obviously Nicole Kidman won the Golden Globe award for Best Actress Drama that year, and you'll later see that Shayne's movie wasn't a musical or comedy, but this is fiction, right? I'm hoping to find some fans :-)

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Chapter 2

In the bright sunlight Don pulled on his aviators as he directed Shayne to the SUV. He opened the door for her. She thanked him and slid into the front seat, digging in her bag for her own sunglasses. Don closed her door and crossed around the front of the truck to climb into the seat beside her. She snapped on her belt and pulled down the visor to check out her reflection in the mirror. When she saw Don watching her in his peripheral vision, she quickly replaced the shade.

She blushed again. "Sorry." It was the first word she had spoken in his presence.

"No problem." Don felt he needed to dignify her apology with some sort of response. He also felt that he needed to get a little bit more information about her before he put a sidearm in her hand. "So, do you have any weapons experience?" he asked, heading south to Inglewood and his regular place.

"I need some work with the handguns." She replied. "I'm familiar and proficient with a rifle and a shotgun." She watched his eyebrows rise as he took in the information. "I played a Confederate widow last spring and just wrapped on a Western. Besides that, I grew up in Virginia. My dad saw to it that we could handle guns."

"Ah, I see," responded Don. "What do they have you using?"

"I'm no expert, Agent Eppes, but I'd say whatever you carry," smiled Shayne.

"It's Don," he smiled back, "And I'd say that's a pretty good assumption. We'll go with it." She nodded and pulled out her script. Don turned his attention to the road.

"Oh, and Don?" she asked a few moments later.

He looked over at her. "Yes?"

"I have to clean it, too. This scene here," she pointed at the page, "I'm cleaning the gun and putting it back together while I'm talking to Gareth's character," she explained.

"Ok," he paused. "We can go over that, too." They both returned focus to the actions that had been occupying them, at least for the moment. "Shayne?" Don asked just a second or two later.

"Hm?" she answered, not looking up from her script.

"How many films have you been in?"

"Oh, gosh, Don, I'm not sure. I quit counting at 12. I made three movies last year, one in a leading role."

"How'd that go?" he asked with a grin.

"It screens at Venice at the end of the summer. I guess we'll see then." She looked back down to the script.

"Yeah, I guess so." Don said, basically to himself. "Sorry, I'll let you read." No response. Don kept driving.

He turned the SUV onto a side street in a seedier section of town. They approached a cinder block building surrounded by a chain link fence topped with razor wire and a locked gate. Don nodded to the very large tattooed man outside who opened the gate to allow them to enter. Shayne shot him a sideways glance as she stowed her script and sunglasses in the bag that she shoved under the seat.

"It's ok." Don assured her. "I'm a regular, and these guys are legit."

"I didn't say anything," spat Shayne.

"You're not _that_ good of an actress, Shayne." Don pronounced, turning toward her.

She gave him a little huff and opened the door. Don jumped out of his side and directed her toward the front door. At the counter directly inside, Don greeted the man behind it. He asked for a few supplies and handed over Bobby's money. Shayne glanced around surreptitiously while she waited for Don to collect the necessary equipment. A few minutes later he handed her safety glasses and ear protection and directed her to their booth.

Before they began Don laid out the guns and ammunition and gave her the complete run down on the selection of handguns she would be using. He held up the first for her to examine.

"Now, I'm going to explain each by the type of ammunition is uses. There are several different models from various manufactures that use each kind, but that doesn't really matter for you right now. I want you to get the overall idea, and it's the ammunition that makes the bang, anyway. This is the .40 S&W. This evolved from the 10mm Auto, which was adopted by the FBI in 1989. Eventually, when this was developed, it was found to be too powerful for some agents. They scaled back to the .40 a while later. Most Agents carry this caliber in something like a SIG-Sauer P226." He moved to the second. "This is the .45ACP. The SWAT and HRT guys carry these now, the Springfield Custom Professional Model M1911-A1." Finally, he showed her the .38 and the 9mm. "The .38 is the traditional ammunition used by the FBI, so it's probably a good idea for you to be familiar with it and the 9 pretty much rounds out the stereotypical law enforcement family of handguns. Now there's more in-depth information about subclasses of each cartridge and the usual associated manufactures and models, but I guess an overview of these four should be enough for now, and unless you need to know more specific info or get into assault weapons or the heavy firepower, you'll be set."

Shayne nodded and Don began explaining how to clean, load and shoot each one of the test models he had rented from the clerk. She followed his instructions perfectly and carefully but skillfully duplicated all of his directions and movements. Don could quickly see that she handled the firearms naturally, even gracefully. After practicing the basics a few more times, he decided that they could move on to firing them. Again, he began by demonstrating the proper form, aim and execution of the shot. He squeezed off three rounds from each weapon, relishing the power the feel of the cool metal in his hands always gave him.

Finally, almost reluctantly, Don handed over the first pistol, the standard issue .40, to Shayne. She carefully wrapped her fingers around the butt of the gun and raised her arms. She lined up the shot with her feet shoulder width apart, the right slightly in front of the other just as Don had shown her. Slowly she pulled the trigger. The target placed the shot up and to the right of where Shayne had aimed. Don stepped up beside her and placed his hands on top of hers and the gun. She turned her face toward his as he slid in behind her, his arms still on top of hers. She nodded and he helped her pull the trigger again. This time, though, with his hands guiding hers, the shot was straight and on target. He stepped away and she fired the third shot alone. It nearly duplicated the hole made by the second one. She repeated this motion until the clip was empty. She shot him yet another sideways glance and he nodded and pointed to the second firearm. They repeated the procedure similarly with each weapon until Don was satisfied that Shayne could convincingly fire a live handgun. When they had finished, she cleaned each weapon with minimal input from Don. He found himself more than slightly impressed with how quickly she picked up the things he had shown her. It was almost like teaching Charlie.

It was after 2 pm when they finished and returned the paraphernalia to the man at the counter. By this time Shayne was feeling significantly more at ease than she had when they first arrived. She flashed a smile at the attendant who asked if he could get a photo and an autograph for the wall. She agreed and he produced a Polaroid camera that was thrust into Don's hands. He snapped the photo and Shayne signed the white part on the bottom as the picture developed. Russ, the guy behind the counter, tacked the photo on a section of the wall that Don had never paid attention to before. He and Shayne stepped forward to watch her take her place among about a dozen well-known movie stars. Russ asked her if she was working on a film. She said that she was and gushed a bit over how Don was helping her prepare for her role. Russ wished her good luck and admitted that he couldn't wait to see her wielding a pistol on screen. Shayne blushed but thanked him for his help. Don shook Russ's hand and followed Shayne out the door.

Once they had made it to the car, Don pulled out his phone to check in with the office. Megan assured him that all was well and relayed information regarding Colby's surgery, which had gone very smoothly. He hung up after a few more minutes of updates from the office and turned to face Shayne, who had returned to reading her script.

"What time do we have to be back?" he asked her, glancing at his watch as his stomach growled.

She laughed at him and said that she thought it would be fine if they stopped for something to eat before they returned to the set. "Unless, of course," she teased, "You're dying for a 6 inch turkey sub from Subway." Don decided that he wasn't and directed his car onto the 405 heading north. He turned off on Wilshire, continuing toward his office.

"I thought you just checked in with them," said Shayne.

"I did. I just thought we could get some lunch around the corner and it will be easier if we park here and walk."

"Oh, good idea. How's your friend?"

Don assured her that he was doing well as he pulled in the parking structure and found his space. Then, he and Shayne crossed the street and headed down Gayley Avenue to his favorite pizza place within walking distance from work. They took a table in a corner, the only one not occupied by college students or scrub-clad hospital workers, even though it was well after the regular lunch hour rush.

"UCLA and the medical center are just a few blocks away," explained Don when Shayne commented on the number of patrons. "Two groups of people who are definitely not on the 9-5 schedule."

"I'm assuming FBI agents are another group," mused Shayne as she glanced over the menu.

"Sometimes we do actually fall under the 9 to 5 umbrella, and sometimes we get caught in the rain."

Shayne smiled. "That reminds me, you have to pick up your call sheet when we get back. It tells you when and where to be at all times. We're starting principal photography tomorrow, so that will be important. The AD will give it to you, that is, if we have an AD."

"AD?" asked Don.

"Assistant Director. He or she keeps things moving while the director sets up the shots; at least that's how it is on a big film. Presumably it will be a sibling or friend of Bobby's. That seems to be the only prerequisite to work on this picture." Shayne rolled her eyes.

"Well, I'm guessing he isn't paying you much compared to what you could make on a big-budget project. So why are you doing this one?"

"I shouldn't have said that," she apologized. "Joe is a friend of mine, and when he showed me the script, I knew I wanted in. I _thought_ they were going to pitch it to a major studio, but Bobby decided to make it himself. Actually, we're in a better situation because Bobby's uncle is producing and Warners is quasi-attached. If Bobby were producing it, we'd be going at it completely alone. This is the kind of movie that usually gets made without shooting permits or bathrooms, so I guess we should be thankful for the fact that we have the use of the sound stage and backlot at Warners."

"I guess we should. But while we're complaining, I can't believe my boss sent me down here for an entire month. I'm in charge of an entire team. I have no problem with Colby taking care of this, but me? My boss, our Assistant Director, said we had to honor our commitment to Warner Bros. He had no idea it was a rogue project. He acted like it was a _Star Wars_ movie or something," Don complained back.

"I think 20th Century Fox made _Star Wars_, but still, that's really funny! You're more miserable about this than I am! Your boss made you? That's great. Bobby's basically renting the studio for free. I think Warner Independent Pictures will be credited as the Production Company, and they certainly haven't agreed to distribute the film. Bobby's hoping his uncle can produce a film festival invitation. He's hoping to be ready for Sundance next year, and maybe we'll get a distributor there." She was laughing so hard she could barely finish.

"I'm really glad you're enjoying my misery, Shayne."

"Seriously, though, Don. You have to read the script tonight. It's amazing. I told Joe that I'd make the movie for free. Little did I know he'd take me up on it. Oh well, I'm just hoping it will be my _Queens Boulevard_." The waiter appeared to serve their drinks and take the order.

"I swear you Hollywood folks speak another language. What's a Queens Boulevard?" Don felt perplexed every time she opened her mouth.

"You really don't watch many movies, do you Don?"

"Uh, no. Not much TV, either. Just Sportscenter when I get the chance. And the Dodgers."

"Oh yeah? You're a baseball fan?"

"I played in college and a couple of seasons in the minors."

Shayne raised her eyebrows, impressed. "Wow. So maybe you're the celebrity here."

Don chuckled and shook his head. "Nah. That was a long time ago."

"What position? Oh, wait, let me guess!" She paused for a moment and squinted her eyes as she examined him. "Middle infield, obviously. But which position?" She tapped her chin with her index finger. "Second base." She finally decided. She raised her eyebrows in expectation of his answer.

Don glared back at her, head slightly cocked to the side. "That's quite a gift you have."

Shayne beamed brightly. "I'm right? I knew it!"

Before Don could respond the waiter arrived with their lunch. Don served them both before asking, "How did you get into movies?" effectively turning the conversation away from himself.

"I've always done community theatre, when I was young, in high school and some minor stuff in college. But in no way was I planning on becoming a 'professional.' I have a business degree from Harvard. My dad definitely didn't plan on me being an actor. He says I should have attended a less expensive school if I was going to throw away my degree and his money."

"Ouch," grimaced Don.

"I guess I realized that I didn't want to do the whole corporate ladder thing, even in the context of his business, maybe especially in that context. I was working for my dad in London the summer after I graduated, and I auditioned for a part in a play. I almost think I did it to prove to myself that I should go on to graduate school or work or something. I didn't imagine for one second that I'd get the part, but I did. The play ran the entire summer of 2001, and by the time it ended, I'd signed with an agent in London who got me another play and then my first three film roles."

"Really?" Don was becoming intrigued. "In American movies or English ones?"

"Two were American films in Britain, and the third was French."

"Would I have heard of them?"

"Some people have, but I doubt you're one of them. They were no _Braveheart_."

Don blushed. "I just don't get to many movies."

"It's ok. I think a total of, oh, 400 people in the US saw them." She smiled back.

"You look incredibly familiar, though. Have you done anything that I would have heard of?"

"Probably not. It's been mostly artsy and foreign stuff plus a few 'can't miss blockbusters' that, big surprise, missed." She looked away from him and took a bite of her pizza. "This is good."

"Yeah, it's one of my favorite places."

"Do you go out often?" She asked.

"Every once in a while. Maybe every two months or so, depending on the caseload. Mainly when we a case resolves positively, grab a beer with the team, something like that. What about you?"

"Well, I don't club hop with Paris Hilton, and I do wear panties most of the time. So I guess that disqualifies me from being one of the 'cool kids,' but I do have a few regular spots I hit from time to time."

Don laughed. Even _he_ had heard about Paris Hilton and the pantyless epidemic affecting young stars in Hollywood. "I hate to break up this party, but I'm guessing that the walkthrough is going to take some time, plus I've got a script to read and some research to do tonight. We'd better get back."

"I guess you're right. It might take a while. We're not nine to fivers, either."

"Good to know." Don laid a couple of bills on the table and the two left the restaurant.

They drove east to the Valley and pulled through the studio gate. Inside Sound Stage 3 the flurry of activity had dramatically increased from the morning. Shayne led him to the set where she assumed the crew was gathered to begin the shooting walkthrough. Bobby asked her how the shooting range had gone. She deferred the question to Don who assured the director that Shayne showed excellent command of the pistols. Bobby nodded and asked the cast and crew to open their scripts. He explained that they would be blocking the scenes in the order of the script and then in the order in which he planned to shoot. Three hours later they were finished and the crew was dismissed. Bobby, Gareth, Shayne, Dominic, Tim, and a few other folks remained to work out some of the loose ends before the next day. Shayne waved at Don right before he turned to go. He raised his hand, but she had already turned back to take in the instruction that Bobby was doling out to the assembly.

Don climbed into his SUV and had barely closed the door when his phone rang on his belt. He retrieved it and flipped it open.

"Eppes."

"Don?" Charlie asked on the other end.

"Yeah, Charlie. What's up?"

"Well, it's 7:30. When you phoned me this morning, you indicated that you would be informing either Dad or me of your plans for the evening. We are about to sit down to dinner, and I was wondering if I should set a place for you or if you'll be kept at work a bit longer?"

"Actually, I'm on my way out right now. It'll take me 20 minutes or so to get there, so you and Dad go ahead and eat. Just save me some, ok?"

"Will do, Don. See you in a little while."

Don closed his phone and threw his copy of the script on the passenger seat. He started the car and turned on the radio. He wasn't sure which station it was tuned to, but he laughed aloud when a Britney Spears song began playing. Instead of immediately hitting the next programmed station, he listened to pop music until he arrived at Charlie's. He pulled into the driveway and even found himself humming "Whoops I Did It Again" as he strode into the kitchen where his Dad was washing dishes.

"Donnie! Charlie said you were on your way. There's a plate in the refrigerator. I think Charlie's still in the dining room correcting some papers. He wanted to talk to you."

"Thanks, Dad. I'll just warm this." Don decided as he placed the plate in the oven. He pushed through the dining room door to find Charlie thoroughly engrossed in students' papers and lesson plans. "Hey, Chuck."

"Don. You made it. How was your day?" He let the nickname slide this once.

"Ah, it was interesting. What about yours?"

"Nothing unusual. I want to hear about your new assignment, though. That is, if you want me to hear." Charlie backpedaled.

"No, that's fine. I want to tell you about it, actually. Let me get my dinner, first."

"Sure, Don. I'll be right here." He went back into the kitchen where Alan was pulling the plate from the oven with a potholder.

"I think it's ready, Donnie. Be careful, though, the bottom is warm, so you have to put it on a hot plate. There's one right over there." Alan pointed to the counter beside the fridge. Don grabbed the hot plate as well as a beer from inside the fridge.

"You have time to sit, Pop?" Don asked.

"Sure, Donnie. I'll be right in."

"Nah, leave those. I'll finish them when I'm done with this. Come on in here with us."

Alan smiled at his son and dropped the dish towel. "Yeah, ok."

Don set his dish on the hot plate and started cutting the steak in front of him. Alan and Charlie both sat watching him. Finally, Charlie sat up on the edge of his seat.

"So, Don, what's the new assignment?" he asked.

Don pulled the screenplay from his jacket pocket and slid it across the table to his brother. "I'm a technical advisor on a film that is currently shooting on the lot at Warner Bros."

Charlie and Alan glanced back and forth at one another and at Don. Charlie spoke first. "Was this something you were expecting, Don?"

"No, Buddy, it was not. Colby was supposed to do it, but he had his appendix taken out this morning." Alan and Charlie both gasped. "He's ok," assured Don, "But he obviously couldn't make it. So, long story short, they sent me and spread out the team for the rest of the month."

Alan studied his elder son's face. "How are you feeling about that?"

"Well, I spent my day taking the lead actress to the shooting range, teaching her how to clean and shoot handguns. Then, I watched the cast and crew set out the shooting schedule for the next few weeks. I really have no idea what I'm supposed to do, except read the script, and I also need to research the cast and something called Queens Boulevard. So, I'm definitely going to need help. I haven't even watched a movie forever, much less attempted to help make one. I'm completely out of my element here."

Charlie nodded. "Ok, Don. This isn't normally the type of help I'm accustomed to offering, but I will absolutely do my best to assist you in any way. Let's start with Queens Boulevard. Now, is that plural or possessive?" He asked as he pulled his laptop in front of him.

Don rubbed his hand through his hair. "I have no idea. Try both?"

"Ok. Ah! Here it is, _Queens Boulevard_, as in the street in the New York City borough. It's an independent film by Billy Walsh and starring Vincent Chase that debuted at the Sundance Film Festival two years ago."

Alan shrugged his shoulders. Don massaged the bridge of his nose. "That makes absolutely no sense to me. Does it say anything about the significance of the film or anything like that?"

Charlie studied the screen. "Yes. According to this site, which appears to be administrated by a group of Vincent Chase fans, before casting the role of Aquaman, James Cameron attended the premiere of _Queens Boulevard_. Although he only saw a few minutes of the feature, it was enough for him to feel confident in casting Chase, and the film went on to record the highest grossing opening weekend in Box Office history."

Don continued eating his dinner as he mulled Charlie's information. "Well, _that_ makes sense," he finally decided. "Even I've seen _Aquaman_." He turned back to Charlie, "How about a list of filming terms, a glossary or something? I have no idea what these people are talking about, and I'd kind of like to make sure they aren't talking about me."

Alan laughed. "I know you haven't read the script yet, Donnie, but what is the movie about? And what type of technical advice are you giving?"

Don explained as much as he knew about the overall plot of the movie while Charlie continued his searching. Alan agreed that it did sound like an exciting idea and asked if there was a perspective release date. At this point Don was able to show off his newfound knowledge of the film industry by repeating what Shayne had told him at lunch. Aland seemed impressed by all that Don had learned in just one day. Charlie printed off a list of important cinema terms and asked Don about the cast members he wanted to research.

"Start with Shayne Carrigan." Don spelled her name and Charlie ran the search as he took his plate and empty bottle to the kitchen. When he returned to the dining room, Alan had walked around the table to stare at Charlie's laptop screen. They both looked up as Don entered. "What?" he asked.

"Is this the girl?" inquired Alan.

Don glanced at the screen. "Yeah, that's her."

"She's quite lovely, Donnie."

"She's like 15, Dad."

"Actually, she's 26," piped Charlie. He continued reading. "She has an MBA from Harvard Business School and an undergraduate degree in Economics, graduating Magna Cum Laude from the same institution. Impressive for an actress."

"Or for a person," smiled Don.

"Oh, wow, this _is_ impressive. She graduated from Harvard in 2001 and didn't make her first movie until 2002. That means she was accepted totally on her own merit and not due to any factor of fame as is sometimes the case in the Ivy League. Anyway, here's a list of all the films she's done. Oh, I know this one. Amita loves it. We went to see it at USC last month."

Don joined his father looking over Charlie's shoulder. "Which one?" Charlie pointed to the screen and clicked on the blue link.

"_La Liberté d'Etre Libre_. It was very good. _She_ was very good." He devoured the information on the screen again. "Yes, here. That's what I thought. She was honored for her performance."

This definitely piqued Don's interest. "What do you mean by 'honored?'"

"She won a Golden Globe and was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Actress. The eventual winner of the second award was Nicole Kidman."

Alan whistled through his teeth. "Wow, Don. She's quite accomplished."

Don nodded for a few seconds. "I guess she is. Anything else, Charlie?"

Charlie frowned up at his brother. "Unfortunately, yes. If this information is current, she's dating Vincent Chase." He leaned back to allow Don and his father to see the photo gallery he had found. Splashed across the page were images of Vince and Shayne on the red carpet, on the beach, in the airport, pretty much everywhere.

"That's where I've seen her!" exclaimed Don. "The tabloids!"

"So, not only are you not worried that you have a crush on Aquaman's girlfriend, you also read tabloids?" Charlie asked cheekily. Alan laughed.

Don shoved his brother and glared at his father. "Ok, guys. Thanks so much for your help," he gushed sarcastically. "I've got some reading to do, so I'd better hit the road."

"I thought you were going to do the dishes, Donnie." Alan reminded.

"Even though it was just a clever ploy to get you to spend some time with us, I was actually going to do them, Pop. But now that you and Charlie have had so much fun at my expense, I'm definitely not doing them." He snatched his script off of the table and strutted toward the kitchen. "Night, guys," he called back to Charlie and his dad as he headed out the door.

Charlie and Alan remained at the dining room table staring speechlessly at one another for a few moments more. "You think he likes her?" Alan finally asked.

Charlie shrugged his shoulders. "No idea, Dad. She's very attractive. She's obviously intelligent and I'm assuming, knows how to handle a weapon. Those are all qualities that Don finds admirable in a prospective partner, both social and professional."

Alan chuckled at his younger son's assessment of the situation. "I guess you're right, Charlie. Well, I guess that's all the information we're going to get tonight. Want to help me finish cleaning the kitchen?" Charlie looked skeptically at his father. "Ok, you don't have to say it. Finish your work. I'll take care of the kitchen."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Don pulled in to his apartment complex and grabbed all of his things from out of the car. He fumbled for the key to his mailbox and retrieved the flyers and inserts filling the box. Tucking the paper mound under his arm, he closed the box and trudged up the cement stairs to his two bedroom apartment. He threw everything on the table, kicked off his shoes, hung his keys beside the door and placed his gun and handcuffs on the counter. After he grabbed the next-to-last beer from the six pack in the fridge, he collected the script and a DVD. He placed the disc in the player and sat in the recliner facing the television.

As he flipped through the first few pages of the script, Shayne appeared on the screen. She sat in a dressing gown in front of a vanity table gazing out the small octagonal window of an upper room of a house. In the background two other women busied themselves with preparations. The first brushed and styled Shayne's long Auburn hair while the second lifted a white gown lying across the bed. Shayne stood and untied the belt as the silky fabric of her robe slipped from her shoulder to the floor. The second woman helped her into the dress and fastened the buttons down her back. Shayne stepped back, smoothed the skirt and straightened the sleeves. She glanced nervously in the mirror and regarded the reflections of the two women behind her. Both had tears in their eyes. Shayne turned back around but the camera's point of view remained. She walked toward the women who embraced her. Then, to Don's surprise, she spoke to them in perfect French. Don followed the spoken dialogue as well as he could but eventually relied on the subtitles; however, he soon found that knowing exactly what was being said wasn't necessary. Shayne portrayed precisely what needed to be known through her face and her actions.

He watched Shayne finish preparing for her wedding, in a dress that he soon learned had been made from the silk of an Allied parachute. She descended the steps and walked across the lawn of the house to a small chapel. She collected a bouquet of flowers from the garden outside and tied it with the ribbon that had been securing her hair. Two girls in similarly-constructed lilac colored dresses kissed her and preceded her into the church. Shayne followed them, alone, as a guitar began to play. The congregation stood and turned toward her, and the camera shifted to her point of view. She began the walk down the short aisle. As the tall, blonde haired man at the altar turned to face her, the shot changed and widened. A younger version of Shayne was crossing a meadow, picking flowers as she approached a tall, blonde man working in the adjacent field.

The story eventually unfolded that Shayne's character and this young man had been engaged during the Occupation of Northern France in 1942. Her fiancé Paul had been sent to a work camp along with most of the men in their costal town of Merville. Shayne's character, Claire, and the remaining residents of the town were pushed behind the Atlantic Wall and away from their homes. Claire's family retreated across the Bénouville Bridge, later known as Pegasus Bridge, through Ouistreham and east into Caen. There, they joined with relatives, friends and their countrymen attempting to survive the war. On June 7, 1944 during the Battle for Caen, Claire rescued a wounded soldier from the 27th Canadian Armoured Regiment and saved him from the massacre at the Abbaye d'Ardenne. After hiding the man with her own family among the inhabitant of Caen in the Abbaye-aux-Hommes, a makeshift refuge during the battle, she also nursed his wounds, keeping him alive with meager supplies for weeks. The battle continued for months, and during this time she engaged in a passionate love affair with him. Eventually, he was well enough to rejoin the Allied troops fighting within and around the city. In an emotionally charged scene, she smuggled the man through enemy lines to safety. He promised to return to her following the war. They exchange longing looks and she gives him her locket for remembrance and safekeeping.

The scene then moved forward to Paul's return following the liberation of Paris. He reunited briefly with Claire until he joins with the Allied forces fighting toward Germany before there was time for them to be married. When word arrived that Paul was missing and presumed dead, Claire left the rubble that was Caen for her home and threw herself into the routine of caring for the widows and injured in her village using supplies left by the Americans soldiers during the Battle of Normandy. She feigned celebration with the rest of the world on VE Day. For the next year, she politely rejected social invitations from all the men of the town, all the while holding out hope that one of the men had made it through the war and would be coming for her. In the penultimate scene of the film, Claire was working in her small vegetable garden when the camera panned back for a long shot showing a blonde man walking down the road toward her cottage. The man approached silently until he cast a shadow over her. His face is backlit in the sun so that the audience is unable to tell which man has returned. Finally, the scene switched back to the chapel where the man turns to finally reveal his identity. Daniel, the Canadian soldier took Claire's hand as she reached the altar. They knelt together as the ending credits rolled.

Don found himself surprised to realize that he had watched an entire foreign film, and even more so that he had enjoyed it. Charlie was right, Shayne was incredible and he had been unable to keep his eyes off of her.

Back in the real world the clock showed that it was a little after midnight, and his call time for the next day was 8:30. He took the last beer from the fridge and read the rest of the script. By the time he finished, he was in complete agreement with Shayne. It was amazing. This was definitely the type of film Don knew his friends would want to see, too. He reached for his phone and dialed Megan's number, even though it was after 1 am. She wasn't asleep.

"Hey, Don. What do you need?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to check in with you. I didn't have chance to call after this afternoon. Everything go okay?"

"Yeah. Absolutely. We spent most of the day reviewing case reports from the past six weeks. I think they're going to have us basically on desk duty until they finish the audits for last year, anyway. It's a good break for all of us."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I still feel bad about it, though."

"Don't. So how was your first day in Show Business? You kick it at the Viper Room tonight?"

Don laughed. "No Viper Room, but the first day went pretty well, I think."

"What are you doing tomorrow?"

"They're shooting the first scenes. I have at least two that I'll have to be on hand for."

"Sounds pretty neat. I've always wondered what goes into making a film. Now you'll have all the inside info."

"Yeah, I guess so. Any more word on Colby?"

"No, not after you called. David was going to stop in on him after work, though. I'm sure there will be a report in the morning. I'll keep you updated."

"Ok, thanks, Megan. I'm gonna hit the sack. You should do the same."

"Tell me about it. I'll talk to you tomorrow, Don."

"Good night, Megan."

Don closed his phone and walked into his bedroom. He pulled off his shirt and unbuckled his pants, depositing them both in the overflowing hamper. He would have to remember to take his laundry with him the next time he went to Charlie's. It was cheaper and more convenient, although slower than the Laundromat. He pushed that thought out of his too tired mind and brushed his teeth. Two minutes later he fell into his bed, setting the alarm just before he dozed off.

At 8:10 the next morning, Don arrived at Sound Stage 3 on the Warner lot. He grabbed a bottle of juice from the catering table and looked around for Joe or Shayne. He saw Joe across the room, about 10 yards away. As he headed toward him, Shayne appeared from Wardrobe through the door on his right.

"Good morning, Don," she smiled as she ran her hand through her hair.

"Hey, Shayne. How's it going?"

"Pretty well, actually. We've already finished a scene." She informed him.

"Really? You guys work fast."

"They're dressing the set for your first sequence right now," she said. "I guess you were heading over there to meet up with Joe. I'll let you go."

"Thanks. I'd better get over there." He started to walk away but turned back to her. "Shayne?"

"Yeah, Don?"

"I have to take back something I said yesterday," he decided. Her brow furrowed as she waited for him to finish. "I watched your film last night, the French one. You _are_ that good of an actress."

She blushed and lightly touched his arm. "Joe's looking for you."

Don nodded and walked away. He made his way over to Joe and found out what the plan was for the next scene. Joe explained how the shoot would go and what he expected from Don. They began the filming and Don actually got caught up in the action. He was able to provide insight and instruction that added to the authenticity of the segment. When the scene wrapped they moved on to the next, where Don finally got to see Shayne in action.

As he approached the set, he was surprised to find that the rooms set out in front of him looked exactly like the Safe Houses where he'd had to place witnesses for protection in the past. Watching the actors take their places outside of and around the interior of the room, his mind drifted back to Dr. Karen Fisher and how he had almost failed to protect her following the prison bus wreck. That thought made him even angrier with the whole situation. He should be working cases not fooling around here! Still, he had to admit that the scenery around here was much better than what he normally dealt with on a daily basis.

Shayne crossed in front of where he was standing to find her mark for the next take. The other actors positioned themselves and waited for Billy's instructions.

He marveled as he watched Shayne control the situation. When the cameras were rolling she ceased to be the blushing, shy girl that he often saw when he looked at her. Here, in her element, she was strong and confident, like the girl who had held his emotions captive the night before. She and Gareth led the raid on the smugglers' warehouse and an intense firefight ensued. Don was also pleased to notice how well both "agents" handled the weapons, as well as the physical aspects of the roles they were playing. Neither used a stand-in and both were very convincing in their portrayal. Combined with the script, things were really shaping up well. At least Don felt they were.

Around 1:30 they broke for lunch. Don took that chance to check in again with Megan and the team. She assured him that everything was fine back in the real world. He hung up grudgingly and decided to call Charlie and leave a message about the laundry. Before he could do so, Shayne breezed past him and unlocked the Highlander Hybrid parked beside his Suburban. She didn't notice him as she dialed a number on her phone. He didn't hear what she said, but she hung up a few seconds later. It was at this point when she saw Don standing at his vehicle.

"Hey, Don! I didn't see you there. You have plans for lunch?" she asked.

He scratched his head. "I don't have to be back until 2:30, so I thought about stopping in at the office, but I just called Megan and she said that all they're doing is paperwork. I don't want to get in on that, so no, no plans."

"I don't have to be back until then, either. I was going to drive back to the house and grab lunch, maybe a swim. You wanna join me?"

"Do we have time for that?"

"I think so, but we'd better hurry. Here, hop in." She hit a button to unlock the passenger side door. Don opened the door and climbed in beside her place. She joined him and backed out of the lot. As they turned west toward the Hills, Don asked her exactly where they were going.

"Vince's house on Mulholland Drive. It was Marlon Brando's."

Don played dumb. "Vince?"

Shayne kept her eyes forward, "Vincent Chase, my boyfriend. He's on location in New Zealand and I'm staying there, at least while he's gone."

"Sounds pretty serious," pried Don.

"It's Hollywood, Don. Nothing's ever that serious, and you can't trust anyone but your agent, and half the time you can't even trust him. But we've been seeing each other for about six months, and I'd kind of been living there anyway, so when he left he said I should stay and look after the place, plus he knew I was going to be working here this month."

"I see." Don was dying for a subject change. "So, that movie I watched last night, you were amazing." She tried to stop him, but he brushed her off, "Honestly, Shayne. I know I don't watch that many movies, just whatever's on at 2 am, but if there were more acted like that, I just might."

"Seriously, Don, I'd rather not discuss my work. It makes me really self-conscious."

"It was good work, though. You have a right to be proud of it."

She looked at him for a second but quickly put her eyes back on The 101, making sure not to miss the Coldwater Canyon exit. After another ten minutes of silence they approached the gate of the large Old Hollywood home on a vast, manicured ground. She punched in the access code and continued down the driveway to the house. She parked the car, but Don grabbed her hand before she got out.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"I know you didn't. It's hard sometimes, all the critics and everything. I guess you just put up this shield around yourself in some way. Everyone has a way to deal with it. I just don't talk about it." He nodded, but she continued. "It means a lot to me that you took the time to watch it and that you appreciated it. Thank you." She finally smiled.

Don smiled back at her and nodded. The got out of the car and went into the house. Don whistled at the size and plush interior. He especially liked the plasma screens, some the size of movie house screens, in most of the rooms. At the end of the tour he had counted at least four bedrooms.

"How many people actually live here?" he asked.

"Well, there's Vince, of course and his manager Eric Murphy. Everyone calls him "E." Then there's Vince's brother Johnny Chase, better known as "Drama." He's done a good bit of work over the years: Viking Quest, 90210, Pacific Blue, and tons of other TV stuff in the 90's, and he's in Vancouver right now shooting an Ed Burns series or mini-series or something. The last guy is Turtle. He's the driver and pretty much miscellaneous go-to guy. He's hoping to get into the music business managing clients. They all grew up together in Queens."

"So it's you and these four guys?"

"Well, like I said, Vince is in New Zealand and E is with him. Turtle went to Vancouver with Drama. So it's just me. Oh, and Jack Nicholson uses the gate to get in to his place, too."

"How long are you going to be alone?"

Shayne shrugged. "Vince and E aren't supposed to get back until February or March and I have no idea about the other two." They stopped in the kitchen and Shayne pulled out salads and tuna to make sandwiches. "Is this okay?" she asked. Don nodded and she fixed them both one of each. She then grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge and showed him to the deck overlooking Beverly Hills and West Hollywood.

"Wow, my place is a little closer to the studio, but this view has me beat."

Shayne smiled. "I know. It's amazing, isn't it? If you'd told me 10 years ago, even 5 years ago that I'd be sitting on Marlon Brando, or Vincent Chase's back deck on my lunch break from shooting a movie," she trailed off and looked out over the landscape. "I guess it goes without saying that I never would have believed you."

"It's kind of amazing where we end up in life," conceded Don.

Shayne agreed. They sat for a moment longer in the sun until she took their plates inside and reappeared a few minutes later in a swimsuit and robe. She carried a pair of trunks for Don, too. She offered them to him. He thought about it for a second but passed. He did follow her down to the pool, though. As she waded into the shallow end and began swimming laps, Don selected a lounge chair in the sun. He watched her swim about three laps before he dozed off. The next thing he saw was Shayne standing over him, fully dressed and ready to go, softly shaking his shoulder.

"It's time to go," she said softly. Don pushed his sunglasses off his face and rubbed his eyes. She was smiling. "I think someone works too hard."

Don smiled back at her through squinted eyes. "Who doesn't?" She offered him a hand, and he took it as he stood to his feet. "Ready to go?" he asked as he pulled a pack of gum from his pocket and offered her a piece. She took one and nodded her head. They both headed back through the house and to her car. As they got in he turned to her and asked, "You have any Britney Spears in here?"

Shayne looked at him, a little stricken, until she realized that he was joking. They both burst into laughter as she pulled down the driveway and headed back toward the studio.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thanks for the reviews of this and the other one-shots. Sometimes I need a little break from figuring out where chapter stories are going, and those provide a good distraction as well as allow ideas that don't quite mesh in this series to find their way out.

* * *

Chapter 4

When the day ended Don realized that he hadn't checked in with Charlie or his dad all day. He didn't really want to drop in unannounced, but he had bags of laundry in the back of his SUV. Again, Shayne found him standing in front of his vehicle trying to decide what to do. She walked up behind him and placed her hand on his shoulder. He had seen her coming in the window of his truck and had allowed her to approach. Slowly he turned to face her.

"If we keep running into each other like this, I'm liable to think you're doing it on purpose."

Don tried to keep his cool, but he felt the color rising in his face. He couldn't remember the last time a girl had made him blush. "I guess I'm busted."

"I guess you are. What do you have up tonight?" She wasted no time.

"I'm not sure. I just realized that I haven't made plans for dinner and I have a trunk full of laundry."

"Do it at Vince's. We'll go out."

Don felt his eyebrows raise quickly, "I, I, I'm not sure that's a good idea," he stammered.

"Don't worry about it. A bunch of the crew is going to grab dinner and drinks at this place in Santa Monica. I've never been, but Carlos in wardrobe says it's amazing. Totally low key and almost guaranteed to get us in and out before the paparazzi ever notice we were there."

"Paparazzi?"

"It's just part of it, Don."

"Yeah, but I can't have my name or face in papers, Shayne. It would absolutely blow the possibility of me ever being able to go undercover on a case. I can't do that."

"Oh, right. I didn't think of that."

Don turned to get into his car. "No, why would you have? I'll see you in the morning."

"Wait, Don," she grabbed his arm again. "I'll just invite everyone over to Vince's place. There's plenty of room for everyone. We can order in, whatever." Don stopped and looked at her. "Please? It'll be fun, and you'll have clean clothes."

"Yeah, ok, why not?" Don finally decided. Maybe because she lives with the Sexiest Man Alive, that's why not, screamed through his brain.

"You know the way, right?"

"Yeah." She moved back toward her car and he thought to call out, "Shayne!" She swiveled toward him, "I'm allergic to Tide."

"Oh, Maria uses something organic or all-natural or something. I'm sure you'll be fine, Mr. Special Agent for the FBI."

"Right. See you at the house."

She sauntered across the parking lot. He watched her walk away and he was pretty sure that she was counting on the fact that he would.

When he arrived at the house, he followed her through the open gate and she waited in the driveway to help him carry his laundry into the house. He tossed her a bundle and inquired, "Where are the others?"

"I called Joe and Carlos and a couple of the girls. They already have a table, but they're coming up for drinks afterward. I thought we could throw something on the grill. Is that ok?"

Don raked a hand through his hair. "Um, yeah, sure."

"Great! I'll get this stuff started. Find whatever you want to eat in the kitchen. The grill's on the side deck if you want to get that started. I'll make a salad once these are in the washer. Any special instructions?" He shook his head and she was gone.

He walked into Vincent Chase's kitchen and started with the refrigerator. He found a few things he needed to make a marinade but no meat. In the freezer, he found two steaks wrapped in butcher paper. This is the good stuff, he thought. He laid the steaks on the counter and searched for a container to mix the sauce. In the seventh cabinet he opened, he found a large Tupperware bowl. He pulled it out and began combining ingredients. He chopped an onion and a couple of cloves of garlic on the cutting board beside the range with the set of knives he found on the counter. He was pulling the steaks off a thawing block and placing them in the bowl when Shayne reappeared.

"Looks like you did alright."

"Yeah. Who's the chef? This is quite a kitchen," he admired as he took a seat at the bar.

"It's Drama. He didn't work for a while, so he got pretty good at it."

"Well, I'm no gourmet, and this is about the only recipe I know, so I'm showing you all my cards right now."

"Good. I like to know what I'm dealing with up front." She lowered her eyes walked seductively toward him.

Don shook his head, all of a sudden not sure he wanted to go through with this. "This is quite a different picture from the girl I met yesterday," he tried to joke.

She placed her hand on his shoulder and let it trace the length of his arm. "Oh, I don't believe that you ever take anything for face value. And maybe you didn't get the memo, but I'm an actor, Don."

That pissed him off. He took her hand by the wrist and removed it from his forearm. "Exactly. And that's why I'm thinking I made a classic mistake in showing up here tonight. You played me right according to the script you prepared, and I don't like to be played." He stood and walked toward the door.

"Oh come on, Don! That's not fair." He kept walking. "You barely even looked at me yesterday." She called out, a little louder and a lot more pathetically.

He turned on his heel to face her. "So you played the part of the girl who you thought would catch my eye? Again, not the right move," he spat.

"What makes you think that was the character?" she yelled back.

Don composed himself before speaking and when he did it was almost a whisper. "That's exactly what I mean, Shayne. How would I ever know?"

"You've known me two days," she pleaded.

"Well, you seem to have figured me out pretty well in that short span of time, and I'm not comfortable with that. And I'm not comfortable being here." He started for the door.

"Don, wait." She grabbed his hand. He started to pull away but she held tighter. He looked her straight in the eye and she held his gaze. "I'm sorry. No excuses, no line, no acting. But please don't go." He didn't answer, so she tried a joke. "What would you wear to work tomorrow if you did?" He still didn't answer. She squeezed his hand, "Please?"

He was angry but he didn't want to leave, and they really hadn't crossed any lines. Yet. He closed his eyes and nodded. "Yeah, whatever. But let's be clear about the rules – nothing is happening between the two of us in your boyfriend's house or anywhere else while you're with him, or anyone for that matter. I'm not going to be that guy. Believe me; you don't want me to be." His eyes bored a hole through her, but still she held. "Is that clear?"

"Crystal."

"Good. I'm going to put these on the grill. You're going to make a salad and find some decent wine, as there isn't a decent bottle of beer in here. What's with all this imported light crap?"

"I think they killed the Budweiser the night before they all left, and I don't drink the stuff. Sorry. I'll find a good red."

"Fine, I'll be back in a minute."

Shayne grabbed the things she needed to toss a salad and grabbed a bottle of something red from the wine cabinet. She opened it and poured two glasses after she set the dining room table for two. She took a drink of her wine and took the other glass out to Don on the balcony.

"Did you find all the grilling things?"

She had startled him. He stepped back from the edge of the porch and approached her, taking the glass she offered. "Yeah, they were all right here. The propane tank's low, though. You might want to check about getting a refill."

"I'll leave a note for Maria. She'll take care of it."

Don nodded and opened the lid of the grill. "How do you want yours cooked?"

"Medium."

"Ok, they're about done. Can you hand me that platter?"

She retrieved the dish from the table on the other side of the porch. He placed the steaks on it and followed her inside the house. She brought out the salad, along with some freeze dried twice baked potatoes she had found and warmed. "These have been here longer than I have, I think, so partake at your own risk."

Don served them both as Shayne placed salad in their bowls and refilled the wine glasses. They finally sat down to eat together. She took a bite and grinned at him. "This is amazing. Do you rent out your services?"

"No, but I do have a question."

"Shoot."

"What's your real hair color?"

"What?"

"You said I'm not supposed to talk about the movie, but I want to know. That auburn fit you better than this blonde."

"You're also not supposed to ask a lady her true age, weight or hair color, you know?"

"Well, I really want to know the answer and that is the most benign of the three questions."

"It's somewhere in between the two, I guess. Strawberry blonde? Growing up, I always thought I'd be perfect to play Nancy Drew. In the books he always wished her hair were darker. I think I prefer the auburn as well. But, I guess I have to do what the script calls for."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, Don. It is."

"Why did you make that film?"

"I thought we weren't going to talk any more about the film," pleaded Shayne.

"Well, that was before you tried to seduce me in your boyfriend's kitchen, so I say I get to ask a few questions about the film," countered Don.

"Fair enough," blushed Shayne. "There are only a handful of American actors who speak French well enough to dub their own parts. Jodie Foster, for example, has even had parts in French films. I've been enamored with the culture for as long as I can remember. I began learning the language when I was a child, and I actually studied at the University of Caen during the summers when I was at Harvard. One of my professors there was my dialect coach on the film. The complexity of the part alone was enough to make me want it, but the challenge of a French-speaking role, that was even more motivation."

"So you actually lived in Caen when you were in college?"

Shayne nodded. "Yeah, right in the middle of the city. Those little towns in the movie, I spent all my free time along the coast. It's kind of surreal to go swimming at Omaha Beach. I know the area, the people. When the chance came to tell their stories, I really wanted to have it."

"They didn't mention that on the site I found when I Googled you. Did you have a hard time getting the part?"

She blushed, ignoring the first part. "Yes and no. I still don't know how my agent got his hands on the script, because it wasn't that there were many American actresses gunning for it. I don't think they were considering any Americans, but there were quite a few well-known French and European actresses ahead of me in line – all of them, actually. Audrey Tautou was linked first. She had to drop out, and after talking to a few more people they decided eventually to go with me, as long as they kept the option of having someone else record the dialogue. You know, like in Audrey Hepburn's singing in _My Fair Lady_?" Don nodded and she continued. "Well, I would have rather died than let that happen, so I worked with Sylvie night and day to make sure I had the phonetics exactly perfect."

"Well, I guess you nailed it."

"The Hollywood Foreign Press thought so, and even the Academy voters nominated me. Lots of bells and whistles, you know? Everyone says it changes your life, that you get offered all the best jobs. It's pretty much true. I mean, I did get offered a lot of parts right off, and I thought I made the right choices about them…" she put her hand on her forehead and shook her head.

"Hey, nobody's perfect."

"Right. When was the last time you passed on playing Ava Gardner for Scorsese to make _Bratz: The Movie _because your manager thought it would enhance your commercial appeal, bringing increased endorsement options?" scoffed Shayne, looking up long enough to roll her eyes.

Don laughed and she couldn't help but join him. "Can't say that I've ever done that, but I've definitely made comparably bad choices in my career. I played Single A ball for three seasons with kids 10 years younger than me being called up over me on a regular basis. Every estimation of my performance in every scout magazine, if there even was one, was that I was never going anywhere."

"So you made a career change."

"Yeah, because I wasn't good enough at what I was attempting to do. But that's not the case with you. You're an actor, Shayne. It's not just what you do. It's who you are."

She started to protest. "Again, you've known me for two days."

"And I knew it yesterday," interrupted Don. "The second Bobby yelled action you were a different person. You _were_ that character. I know that I am no expert on this whole industry, but I know what I felt watching you on screen and on that set for the past two days."

Shayne looked across the table at him, not sure what to say. Instead of answering, she posed her own question to him. "So you weren't a ballplayer?"

He shook his head, allowing her to take the focus off of herself for a moment. "I wanted to be, but I'm a cop. My dad and brother helped me see that. I had a case not too long ago that made me deal with that whole notion that I had somehow messed up my destiny or that I hadn't lived up to my own expectations or whatever. Dad reminded me that the reason he and my mom got me started in Little League was because I played with my toy guns too much. He said that they were afraid I was becoming obsessed. So I traded one obsession for another. When the second ran its course, I just moved back to the original one. My brother says I'm a born cop, and he's right."

Shayne grinned at him. "I don't know too much about cops, but my dad was in the Army for over 20 years, and you definitely _look_ official."

"It's the gun. I'd feel naked without it."

"I think it's more than the gun," she laughed.

Don smirked back. "Eat your dinner. It's getting cold."

She smiled for a second before sobering. "So, your family, you're close with them?"

Don really wasn't sure that he wanted to get into the entire Eppes family dynamic with this girl, so he tried to be brief in his description. "I moved after college, and joined the FBI after baseball ended. I hadn't been home really until my mom got sick about five years ago. I came back then, and after she died, I decided to stick around. I guess we're all a little closer now that before. My brother bought my dad's house and they both live there now. Charlie, that's my brother, is a professor at CalSci and he consults quite a bit with the Bureau. My dad was a city planner and now he and a friend of his have a small consulting business. What about you?"

Shayne sighed and smiled sadly at him. "It actually sounds like our families have quite a lot in common. Like I said, my dad was in the Army forever. He retired when I was in high school and starting an international consulting firm with a few of his old Army buddies. They basically provide advice for businesses planning to expand internationally. The plan was for me to go to business school and train in Europe to head the offices in either London or Brussels, but when I didn't, things changed. My mom is a caterer in Georgetown, and my older brother Robbie is 10 years older than me. He graduated from MIT in Aero-Astro Engineering and works for Boeing now." She looked down at her plate and started playing with her food.

Don didn't need years of the Bureau's Behavioral Training to know that there was more to this story. He pried just a little. "They do sound a lot alike, Shayne. But what happened? What changed?"

"I never went to business school."

"But I thought you had an MBA."

"Yeah, someone reported that somewhere and I've really tried to clear it up, but when you Google me, it sometimes directs you to a site that has that incorrectly listed as one of my varied and numerous accomplishments. But no, I don't. I was accepted for admission in the fall term for 2001. I deferred to stay in London, and six months later I started getting bills from my father's accountant. The letter said that the financing of my education had been contingent on my completion business school and going to work for my father for a reasonable period of time and that if I did not wish to do that I would be held responsible for the costs incurred."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. I could actually understand his financial support being contingent upon me doing what he wanted for my life, but it turns out, so was his affection towards me. I would say love, but I'm not sure that you can call that love."

"So what did you do?"

"I paid my bills. I was working in London, and I told my agent I had to have jobs that paid. I had already done the two American movies, just real small parts, you know, but paying parts. She heard about the movie in Normandy, and she knew I'd want to do it, but we had to have a backup plan. I couldn't go three months without a job. So I got that part, and everyone said how wonderful I was, and thought maybe he'd realize that I was finally doing something that I loved and something that I was really good at. But it didn't matter. He didn't try to contact me or anything. So then I thought if I paid off the money really quickly that he'd appreciate my diligence. Nothing. That's part of the reason I came to L.A., changed agents and took some roles that paid a lot but were terrible. And then the critics hit me hard, both me and my decision making process, but they didn't know the whole story, obviously."

"And nothing changed?"

Shayne shook her head. "No. I haven't talked to my dad for more than five years. At first my mom tried to send me money so I could pay him, but he figured it out and threatened to divorce her, so she couldn't stay in touch."

"What about your brother?"

"We weren't ever really close anyway, but we exchange Christmas cards and phone calls once a year or so but he's not offering to defend me anytime soon. Plus, he might want to work for my dad some day, so he has to watch himself."

"I would have never guessed. I mean, you made a joke yesterday about your dad not approving of your career choice and it was so …"

"Normal? Sure. That's what people do. They joke about their parents' expectations of them. It would have pretty much ended the conversation if I'd said 'Yeah, my dad disowned me because I didn't do what he planned for my life.' I guess that's just another part I have to play."

"But that's not your fault, Shayne. Your parents can't choose your life for you. Whatever reason he had for acting this way, those are your father's hang-ups. It doesn't mean anything about you."

"Right. And I thought fathers were just supposed to love their daughters." She noticed how pained the current subject was making him look. "Sorry, Don. I didn't intend to bear my soul to you right now. It's not something I tell everyone or anyone. I don't know, I just felt like you would understand."

"No, It's ok. It's not easy to keep stuff like that inside all the time. So Vince doesn't…" he trailed off.

"No. Just my agent, some girlfriends from school, but no one else out here. He just thinks I'm not interest in going back home."

"I see. I'm really sorry that this happened to you."

She smiled and wiped her mouth with her napkin, trying to keep her emotions in check. "So am I."

They finished dinner in relative silence after which Don cleared the table and cleaned the dishes while Shayne placed his laundry in the dryer. A buzz sounded from the gate and Shayne appeared to open it for the rest of the cast and crew members along with their friends. About a dozen of them arrived in three different cars. They brought liquor and music, and soon the entire assembly was relaxing, having a genuinely good time. Don was surprised to find that he was enjoying himself among this eclectic mix of artists and technical professionals. Unlike at his job he wasn't the most experienced or in charge of anything. It was a feeling he decided could grow on him if he did this too often, but he wasn't worried. He knew there was no danger of that happening.

It was a little after midnight when the party began to wind down. Shayne was showing her guests to bedrooms and couches as Don helped two girls collect bottles and glasses. When they had finished, the girls took places on the couch with two guys watching _Pulp Fiction_ on the large TV in the den. Don waited for Shayne to return before heading to his vehicle. She walked him to the driveway and stopped in front of his truck.

"I know this was my first Hollywood party, but I assumed they were much wilder and more out of control than this." He mused.

"What can I say? We're working. Besides, you're apparently a good influence on my friends. Somebody asked if there was any weed and the answer was, 'Not with a J. Edgar in the house.' So see, you're helping win the war on drugs by just being here." He was happy to see her eyes dancing with laughter again.

"Good to know, although I'd say this is about the only place where that war's being won." He made a move toward the driver's side door.

"I guess it wouldn't do any good for me to ask you to stay, would it?"

"No, it wouldn't."

"Oh! Your laundry!" She exclaimed. "I almost forgot." Shayne ran back inside the house and reappeared with his bags.

"Thanks. I'd better hit the road. What's your call time?"

"6:45 for hair and makeup. What about you?"

"8:30 again."

"Ok, well, I'll see you then. Thanks for coming over and hanging out."

"Thanks for having me. It was fun."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It really was. Goodnight, Shayne."

"Goodnight, Don. Drive safely." She kissed him on the cheek as he opened the door. Then, she backed away slowly and softly walked across the driveway and into the house. Don climbed reluctantly into his car and drove back to his apartment. He opened the door to the darkened flat and found it very empty and cold. He also found that he was growing tired of his entire life being equally empty and cold.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Wow! Lots of reviews! How exciting for me! I think I've answered most of your questions through PM's, but if you don't have a profile/linked reply, I'll try to do so on here. Don't worry; there is definitely plenty of action, angst, drama and Charlie to come. This is only the first of three stories, and each one is already outlined with major drama to ensue. Bear with me! They're really great in my mind right now, and I'm hoping that I'll be able to get them down in a similar fashion so that you're able to understand where I'm coming from. Happy reading and be sure to order your copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows for release on July 21! In the words of my friend Maria, "Do you think our attendings will understand our need to go to the Harry Potter party?" Sadly, I think not. Hopefully we won't be on call!

* * *

Chapter 5 

"Cut! Print that, Tim," yelled Bobby as the day came to a close. The shoot had been going on for nearly three weeks, and it looked like principal photography would be over in just a day or two more. Bobby thanked everyone for their work and released the cast and crew for the evening. As the crew began to strike the set, Bobby yelled to Don, "Eppes!" Don turned from Joe to see what the director wanted.

"You bellowed, Bob?" he grinned at the director. It hadn't taken him long to get into the swing of things on the movie set. While Devlin fancied himself a brooding eccentric genius on the outside, Don had figured that inside his gruff exterior he harbored the same band geek insecurities that he'd probably retained since he was, more than likely, terrorized in the boys' locker room in high school. Don had decided right away that the best way to deal with Bobby Devlin was to treat him like "one of the guys" he'd always wanted to be. Their relationship had blossomed and the shoot had actually turned out to be fun.

"You ready for your close up?"

"Bring it on Mr. DeMille!" He'd also been watching a lot of old movies with Shayne, learning the jargon and trivia that had immediately made him a hit. No one expected the FBI agent to be clued in on the Hollywood inside jokes, but seeing as his film education had begun when she forced him to watch _The Pride of The Yankees_ and _The Kid From Left Field_, two of his own favorites already, he found that many of the movies she decided that he had to see were actually enjoyable. Don had faced this assignment like any other, completely and with perfect preparation. And like most of his assignments, it had been a complete success.

"_Sunset Boulevard_? Impressive. She's picked a good array of films to comprise your Hollywood education. Anyway, change your call to 7:30 with the rest of the cast. Go straight to wardrobe when you get here, and we'll have you ready for your motion picture debut in no time."

"Sounds great, Bob. I'll be here bright and early. How long are you staying in here tonight? I'm going to dinner at my brother's and then, uh, some other places. Do you want me to bring you some leftovers on my way back through?"

"On your way back through to Mulholland?"

"Ok, well, I guess you'll starve. See you tomorrow, if you don't waste away. Personally, I can't do anything of any quality if I'm hungry, but I guess that's just another thing you and I don't see eye to eye on."

"Well, you and I _do_ see eye to eye on _that_." He nodded his head in Shayne's direction.

"Come on back across the line, Devlin."

"Oh, seriously, Eppes. It's not like we're unaware that you've spent basically every evening with her."

"And with all the rest of you guys. But, I'm not going to discuss this. Do you want me to drop some food off or not?"

"Thanks, but I'm going out tonight. I'll spend enough time in post-production after tomorrow. I think I'll take the night off. See you in the A.M." Bobby said goodnight to Don, who promptly crossed the floor and met up with Shayne.

Although Don had brushed off Bobby's claims about the two of them, he had enjoyed the time he spent with Shayne and all the others, but especially Shayne. Tonight, they had planned to meet up to do something after Don had dinner with his dad and Charlie. Since she had picked what they all did the night before, it was his turn to choose the night's activity. He thought he'd decided on a good one.

"Where are we going?" she asked playfully as he walked up behind her. She put her arm around his waist and directed him to the door facing the parking lot.

"It's a surprise. Meet me at this address at 8:30, and I'll take you where we're going." He handed her a slip of paper.

"Do I have to be blindfolded?" she asked mischievously.

"If you want. Just don't put it on when you're driving," he laughed. She elbowed him in the ribs. "I have to go. The family is waiting."

"Have fun."

"See you at 8:30." Don smiled as he got into the SUV.

* * *

"You're on time and you're smiling. Do you think that they could give you a permanent job at this studio?" Alan asked as he watched Don walk toward the house from his car.

"Come on, Pop, it's a vacation. It's supposed to be fun for a few days, or weeks, and then you go back to the real world. We'll be done tomorrow, actually. I'll be back fighting the bad guys by Monday." Alan's face fell. "Don't look so mortified, Dad. I've been doing it for more than ten years."

"Oh, Donnie," he sighed. "Let's just go inside. Charlie's been cooking all evening."

Don stopped in his tracks. "Charlie cooked dinner?"

"Yes. I came out to warn you. He's really been working hard, and I don't want you to say anything that will hurt his feelings."

"Thanks for the heads up, but I was really looking forward to your cooking. I've been eating Subway for the past 17 days. Did you know that?"

Alan laughed. "I didn't know that, but tell you what, you make it through this and I'll make the dinner of your choice the next time you have a free evening. How's that sound?"

"Like a deal."

Alan looked at his son and shook his head. "Maybe you do need to go back to work. You're acting a little odd hanging around with those people all the time."

"What do you mean _those_ people?" Don asked as they walked into the kitchen.

"Don!" Charlie interrupted. "I cooked. Did Dad tell you?" Charlie was beaming from ear to ear. "I think I'm really getting quite good at it." He went back to the stove to stir the bubbling contents of one of his pots.

Don smiled back at his brother and followed him to the stove to see what the younger man had prepared. He had to admit that everything smelled really good and it actually looked edible, too. Don asked if there was anything he could do to help. Charlie and his father informed him that the table was set and as soon as the food was finished, they'd be ready to eat.

"Why don't you grab a beer and see if there's a game on?" Charlie asked, not wanting his older brother standing over him in the kitchen for the next 30 minutes.

"I'm going to take a run instead."

Alan and Charlie glanced warily at one another. "Wearing that?" Alan finally asked.

"Nah, I have a bag in the truck." He turned and left the kitchen before he saw Charlie elbow their father.

"Do you think something is going on between him and that actress?" Charlie inquired of his father, obviously concerned about his brother.

"I don't know, Charlie, but it really isn't our business."

"Right. Of course it isn't. I just hope he's using his head."

"So do I, Kiddo."

Don reappeared with his gym bag and headed upstairs to change. He was back in less than 2 minutes. Alan and Charlie watched him jog out the front door and take off down the street.

"Now, what do you think that is about?" Alan asked as he sat wine glasses on the table.

Charlie just shrugged and went back to stirring his pasta sauce.

Thirty minutes later, Don came back in through the door, red faced, sweating and panting heavily. He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and asked if he had time for a shower. Charlie took one look at him and decided that he did. Once he caught his breath, he started whistling again as he jogged up to the shower. In ten minutes he was back in jeans and a t-shirt with wet hair. Alan and Charlie placed the last serving dishes on the table as Don walked into the dining room.

"You guys need help?" Don asked before taking his seat.

"Good thing the answer is no, because you certainly aren't any." Charlie accused as he and his father took their places.

"Sorry, Chuck. I thought I asked when I came in and you said you were all set. Plus you obviously didn't want me hanging around watching you cook."

"How about you two not get into a fight while Donnie's in such a good mood and Charlie has made us all a lovely dinner?" pleaded Alan. The two men agreed, and Charlie served the three of them generous helping of fettuccini alfredo and salad.

As he took his first bite, Don grinned. "This is really good, Charlie."

"Actually, there is an optimal ratio of spices to dry and wet ingredients that makes for perfect complement of flavors," Charlie started.

"Stop. Seriously. It's not that good." Don begged. Charlie frowned. "I didn't mean the cooking, Buddy. Dinner is good, but how about we talk about something other than spice ratios."

Charlie agreed but only if Don would tell them how things were going on the movie set. Don decided that he'd rather talk about his "vacation" than hear how Charlie had perfected yet another seemingly menial task using math. He filled the other two men in on the upcoming scenes he would be filming the next day. He conspicuously left out any mention of his extra-curricular involvement with the lead actress. Although, considering this was only the third time he'd been at Charlie's in the past three weeks, he was pretty sure they were aware something was going on.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that you've been enjoying yourself, Donnie. I have to admit that I was at worried at first when we hadn't seen you in so long, even though we knew you weren't in any danger. I'm just glad that you've been having a good time." Alan declared.

"Well, I'll tell you, the only way I could even begin to relax was knowing that my team wasn't out there in the field without me. I've been in close contact with them every day. According to Megan, all they've been doing for the past few weeks is audit logs and go over paperwork. I know that they're safe, and I don't envy the job their doing." Don told his father and brother, a little ashamed of the admission.

"No shame in that, Son. But that sentiment is a reflection on the type of leader you are, always thinking of the safety of your people"

"Thanks, Dad. I still feel bad about it. Anyway, like I said, we should finish filming tomorrow or the next day. I'll be back in the office on Monday." Don took the chance to turn attention away from himself and asked Charlie about his classes. Charlie brightened noticeably as he began speaking about his students, upcoming projects, and collaboration with students in one of Amita's courses. He did note that it was quite different without Larry around but felt that he could sufficiently manage without his friend until the physicist returned in the summer. He even mentioned Millie in a slightly less hideous light. Alan chimed in that he was glad to hear that Charlie was getting along better with his boss. Don assumed his father's concern was not only about Charlie's career. He didn't know Millie well, but he felt that his father's attachment to her was more serious than any of the women he had dated so far.

As the dinner and the conversation died down, Don glanced covertly at his watch. It was after 7:30. He'd have to get going to get to the meeting point in time. He stood to start clearing the table and placed his dishes in the dishwasher. Charlie jokingly asked if he had somewhere to be. Don felt his cheeks redden when he told his younger brother that he did. While the two of them were alone in the kitchen, Charlie finally asked Don if something was going on between him and Shayne. Don assured his brother that they were merely friends. Charlie knew that Don was telling him the truth, but he still felt that his older brother's feelings for this woman were significantly deeper than Don would ever admit.

After the dining room was cleared and the kitchen was somewhat cleaned, Don retrieved his gym bag from his bedroom and headed out the door. Pulling out of the driveway, he grabbed his phone from the center console and checked for messages. There were none. Over the past few weeks he and Shayne had toed the line that he had been quick to draw the first night in Vince's kitchen. Somehow, though, along the way it had gotten a little blurred. Their flirtation was merely that, but Don felt that the slightest encouragement from either of them could erase the line completely. Still, he enjoyed spending time with her, and this was the first time in years that he'd had the chance to be free of responsibility and consequences. In fact, when he tried to think of the last time he'd gone without being in charge of anyone or anything, he couldn't remember when that would have been. Certainly not since Charlie had been born. Don had been his brother's sworn protector from the moment Charlie had come home from the hospital and was placed in the bassinet beside their parents' bed. Even when Charlie got on his nerves and during the years when they had lost touch, Don still recognized that if Charlie ever needed him, he would be there. Hell, that's what he had done. Shaking his head to clear it, Don scolded himself inwardly for turning his thoughts to Charlie when they should be on Shayne and what in the world he was about to get himself into.

Even though he knew he probably shouldn't, he proceeded to the rendezvous point to wait for Shayne. He arrived about 10 minutes before he was expecting her. He checked his hair in the mirror, now remembering that he had taken a very quick shower and dressed without any thought at all. He hoped that he looked okay. He guessed that it really didn't matter. His brilliant plan had been to take Shayne to the batting cages at a local park. It was something he often did on his own, yet when Shayne had insisted he watch _When Harry Met Sally_, she commented that she'd never done it before but thought that it looked like fun. He had decided then that they should go. He had simply been waiting for the time that they could go alone. The night before she'd suggested Tangier, a club not too far from Don's apartment that was one of her favorite places to hang out. Several members of the crew had joined them. Tonight was different, though.

As Don pulled into the parking lot where he'd planned to meet her and was contemplating the game plan for the evening, his phone rang. The screen showed that Shayne was the caller. He smiled as he flipped open the phone.

"Are you on your way?" he asked, still grinning.

"Don, I'm so sorry. Vince and E are back. I was getting ready to meet you when they drove up. I thought they were going to be in New Zealand until the end of the month, but I completely forgot that Vince was presenting at the SAG Awards on Sunday. They came back for that. He wants me to go out with them. I tried to get out of it, but he's been gone for three months. I have to go." She sighed heavily into the phone.

"No, I understand. Your boyfriend is home now."

"It's not like that Don," she interrupted. "It's not."

"Yeah it is, Shayne. We were colleagues spending time together while we worked on the same project. I'm sure you're quite familiar with that concept."

"Please don't do this, Don." She pleaded with him.

"I think it's already done."

"I have to go, Don. They're waiting for me, but I'll see you tomorrow, ok?"

"Sure. Have fun." He barely waited for her to say goodbye before closing the phone. He put the truck in reverse and backed out of the parking lot. He turned the car, thinking at first that he'd just head back to Charlie's, but that would only invite questions. Instead, he directed the vehicle to his apartment, stopping at the store for a six-pack. Before he cracked open the first cap, he called Colby. The younger agent jumped at the chance Don offered him to be in the movie in his stead. Colby wrote down the directions and thanked Don. When he hung up, Don threw the bottle cap onto the coffee table and flipped through the channels until he found a hockey game. He set the alarm on his phone for 5:30 and drank two beers before falling asleep on the couch. He had only been kidding himself these past three weeks. He wasn't a filmmaker or an actor. He was a Federal Agent, and his vacation was over.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thanks for all the kind words. Here's a little bit more. It will get a lot more exciting/dramatic soon. I promise!

* * *

Chapter 6

Don's phone was right beside his face when it began to beep. He pulled himself up off of the couch and trudged into the bathroom, disrobing on the way. He knew that he had taken a shower only a few hours earlier, but somehow he still felt dirty. He let the warm water flow over him as he considered his plan of action for the day. As he was getting dressed, he thought about calling Megan to let her know what was up but decided instead to beat her to the office to tell her himself. He downed one cup of coffee in the kitchen and poured most of the rest of the pot into a travel mug to take with him on the road.

By 6:45 he was on the road. This morning, however, instead of heading north to Burbank, he turned west toward the office and all that he had been missing for the past few weeks. He was the first one from his team in the office, probably because none of them was too anxious to begin a day of paperwork. He could completely understand. There was a mountain of paper on his desk, totally unrelated to the audits. He sifted through messages, notes and files for about an hour until he heard David and Megan come into the bullpen. When Megan saw him she ran across the room to hug him. She reddened as she pulled away.

"Sorry, that wasn't the most professional action in the world," she apologized. "We've missed you, though. Are you finished already? I thought you had the rest of the week at least."

Don scratched his head and tipped it slightly to one side as he answered her. "The filming isn't quite done yet. I was supposed to be in a scene today, but I called Colby last night to see if he wanted to do it instead. I figured he'd enjoy that since it was part of the reason he agreed to work on the film in the first place."

"Well, wasn't that nice of you! I'm sure he's having a great time." Megan gushed.

"Yeah, I'm sure. So, have you two been holding down the fort while I've been gone?" Don asked, this time turning toward David.

"Well, we've not really been in on anything more exciting than last quarter's arrest reports since you've been gone. Overall it's been pretty quiet around here, though. Oh, except Liz Warner's witness testified. They assigned her to us. I mean, not to _us_, but to the L.A. office. I think she's working on Keller's team." David quickly brought Don up to speed on the goings on in his absence.

Don nodded. "She's a good agent; at least I trained her to be. She should be an asset to the division."

Megan and David both nodded. Don offered to get them both some coffee and meet them in the conference room where all their materials were set up. He grabbed two cups and prepared the agents' coffee when he heard someone come up behind him. He turned to face Agent Liz Warner.

"Welcome back, stranger." She smiled.

"Thanks. I hear you're here to stay."

"I guess I have to get up a little earlier if I want to pull one over on Don Eppes."

"That's right and don't you forget it, Agent Warner," grinned Don. "My team's waiting on me. We should catch up, though. You have plans tonight?"

"I'm not sure. Can I get back to you later on that?"

"Sure. I'll be here all week," Don winked.

"I'd better get back to work, too. We've got a lot to do today."

"You getting along ok with Keller and his guys?"

"Yeah. They've been great."

"Good. We're glad to have you." He finished the coffees and started toward the door.

"Thanks. I'm glad to be here." she affirmed as she picked up the coffee pot.

Don made it back to the conference room and handed over the hot beverages to David and Megan. They thanked him and quickly set to showing him the work they had done and the system they set up. Don felt his eyes crossing as they were explaining the methods.

"I can't believe you guys have been doing this for weeks! I'd have jumped out of a window by now, I think."

"It's tempting, let me tell you." Megan joked. "But, hey, Charlie said you were working with Shayne Carrigan. Larry and I went to see that movie Charlie and Amita recommended. She was really good! What's she like in real life?"

Don shrugged and shook his head slightly. "She's just pretty much like any other person, I guess. But yeah, she's quite the actress."

"Is she as good looking in person as she is on TV?" David asked.

"Her hair is blonde now. I think she looks better with dark hair, like in the movie Meagan was talking about. But yeah, she's cute." Don conceded as he looked over the tables of paperwork. "I guess we should get started on this, though." The other two agents agreed and the three of them got down to business.

For the next few hours, Don tried to focus on the arrest reports he was attempting to read, but his mind was definitely somewhere else. Obviously Shayne would know why he wasn't there, butt he wasn't sure if it would really matter to her anyway. He mentally slapped himself. When had he become a 14-year-old girl? He was not letting this actress get to him. They had been co-workers. That was it. And how many times had he become involved with co-workers? Well, that was irrelevant. She wasn't an FBI Agent. She was an actor – playing an FBI Agent. Suddenly it all made sense to Don. As Shayne was playing her part, she was also playing the part of a woman Don usually found himself linked to romantically.

He pushed his chair back from the table and walked to get a drink of water from the cooler in the corner of the room. All of a sudden he was sweating and finding it hard to breathe. His heart raced in his chest as he reached up with a shaking hand and tried to unbutton the top two or three buttons of his shirt. He stumbled backward and placed his hand on the wall to steady himself. Megan looked up to see what was going on.

"Don! Are you ok?" She jumped up from her seat and rushed to her partner's side. He nodded but still looked pale and sweaty. "Here, sit down for a second. David, can you get him a drink of water?"

David jumped up and grabbed a cup of water for Don. "Here you go, man. Drink this." He handed the older man the cup. Don thanked him breathlessly and drank the water. After a minute, Don felt the pressure in his chest release. He was able to breathe easier and the sweating stopped.

"Thanks, guys. I'm ok now. I think I'm just going to go get some air."

"That's fine, Don, but I'm coming with you." Megan insisted. He started to protest but decided that it would do little good. He grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and headed toward the elevator. Megan followed. When they made it outside he moved quickly to the bridge but stopped so that Megan finally caught up with him.

"Are you ok?" She asked again. He didn't answer. "Don!" She tugged on his arm.

"What? Megan. Oh, yeah. I'm fine."

"You just had an anxiety attack in the conference room. That's not what I'd call fine. Is something going on with you?"

"No. Yeah. I don't know."

"You want to talk about it?"

"No. Sorry. I'm fine. I just needed some air."

"Ok. If you're sure you're fine, I'm going back inside."

"Yeah." She turned around and he called out to her, "Megan, wait." She stopped. "Can I ask you something and you won't say anything to anybody about it?"

"Sure, Don. What is it?"

He paced back and forth in front of the bench where she took a seat. "Am I in a pattern?"

"You're going to need to give me a little more than that."

"I mean with women."

"Oh. I don't know if I'm the right person to ask about this."

"Right. Sorry. Totally inappropriate." She started to accept his apology but he kept talking, "It's just that you know me and you're a woman." Megan tried to stifle a grin. "Shit. Sorry. I'm stopping now."

"It's ok, Don. Is this about the actress?" Don was speechless. "I had dinner with your dad and Charlie last week. They mentioned that you were out with her."

"Damn it! I wasn't just with her. She's with someone. They live together."

"So you weren't attracted to her?"

"I guess that's my question. I mean, yes, I was, I am attracted to her. The thing is, I'm not sure if it's her or her character. She played an agent. So I started looking back over the past five, ten years. Every relationship I've been in has been with someone I've met through work, either an FBI or ATF agent or a prosecutor. Man, that sounds really bad. And now Shayne. And Liz is back."

"You and Liz Warner? Really?" Megan asked.

Don joined her on the bench. "I can't believe I'm sitting here talking about this with you. How indiscreet can I be?"

"It must have been your time in Hollywood. You're much more sensitive and demonstrative with your feelings and there's a screenplay running in your head. Is this where the plot thickens?"

"This isn't funny, Megan. I'm 36 years old. I haven't had a relationship that's lasted more than a couple of months in, what, five years? And just now, sitting up there, it came to me that I was in a pattern that I hadn't even noticed. Even Robin, we hooked up at the gun range."

"So you're attracted to strong, powerful women who can shoot guns. You respect qualities in women that most men find totally intimidating and that would make them run for cover. It's not a bad thing, Don."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. The problem comes when those strong women are unavailable or when you treat them like all your other buddies. They're still women and have to be treated accordingly."

"Right. I really tried with Robin, though. I didn't used to be so bad at this." He sighed again and dropped his head into his hands, elbows resting on his knees.

"It's hard, Don. It's hard to do what we do day in and day out and then go home to someone that you love. You don't want to tell that wonderful, special person about the horrible reality of what we do, about how evil people can really be. That could be part of the reason that you tend to end up with the women you do. They already understand your world. Unloading about your day wouldn't shock them. You don't have to protect them from that part of your life."

"Sure, it's partly that, but it's more."

"I know, Don, but I can't help you with those other things."

"Thanks, Megan; it's just that if I say something to my dad or Charlie, it could be used against me for the rest of my life. We should get back in there and help David."

"Sure, Don. Let's go." They walked back into the building and badged their access to the elevator. When the doors closed she offered one last piece of wisdom. "When it's the right person, you'll figure out what you need to do, and you'll be ready to do it. Trust me on that one."

When they got back upstairs, Don went immediately back to work. David barely looked up as his team members entered the room. He wasn't sure what that whole scene had been about, but he sure as hell knew not to ask. Megan took her seat and asked if anyone had plans for lunch. The consensus was Greek food. They kept working until 12:30 when Don's phone rang.

"Eppes," he barked into it.

"Hey, why didn't you tell me how much fun this was? I don't think I'm coming back."

"Whatever, Granger. You aren't pretty enough to quit your day job. Is everything going ok, though?"

"Yeah. The director thinks they'll wrap today. They told me to tell you you're invited to the wrap party. It's gonna be at some place called Tangier. They said you know where it is. They also said we should all come, so you'll let Megan and David know?"

"Sure, Colby. I'll tell them. We're about to head out for lunch, so why don't you give me a call when you know more?" Colby agreed to do so and Don said goodbye. He looked up and asked the others if they were ready to go.

Megan and David said that they were, and David wanted to know how Colby was getting along. Don let them in on Colby's side of the previous conversation.

"They invited us to their wrap party?" Megan commented. "Wasn't that nice!"

David and Don both looked at her skeptically. "I'm sure we'd stick out at a Hollywood cast party like a sore thumb." David stated. Don nodded.

"Don's been to a bunch of their parties. Besides, if Colby's going to be there, we should provide the necessary backup." Megan protested.

Don laughed. "I'm sure Colby's getting along just fine without us, but if you really want to go, I guess I'll stop by. It's right down the street from my place, anyway. Colby's supposed to call us back with the details."

"Can we please get some lunch now? I'm about to starve!" David interjected. They grabbed their jackets and headed out to lunch.

For the rest of the day, Megan tried to hide her excitement with little success. She knew it was completely unlike her nature to be excited about such a gathering, but she was, nonetheless, looking forward to attending. She hardly ever went out unless she was with the guys, and Larry had been gone for over almost two months. Getting dressed up and spending time with some new people sounded like a much better evening than a microwaved Lean Cuisine and reruns of "Match Game" and "Doctor Who." Plus, she wanted to check this girl out for herself. She must be something to have Don so out of sorts.

By the close of business, Colby had called to let them all know that the cast would be dining at 8:30. Cocktail hour was set to begin as soon as people began arriving. Megan nearly danced out of the office as she told Don and David she would meet them there. David offered to pick her up on his way, and she gratefully accepted. The two of them said goodbye to Don, who was clearing up some space in the conference room for new files, and they were off for the evening. When Don finished with the boxes he had transported from the file room he grabbed his jacket to leave. He first stopped at his desk to check his messages. Seeing that there weren't any that he had to deal with that day, he stood and found himself again staring into the face of Liz Warner.

"I know this is a little late notice, but I realized I hadn't gotten back to you on your offer. Turns out I am free tonight."

"You heard about the party, then?"

"What party?" Liz was perplexed.

"You didn't talk to Megan?"

"Not today. What are you talking about, Don?"

"My team is going to the party for the end of the film Colby and I were working on. It's tonight, and I don't know if you are at all interested, but I thought you might like to go with me."

"Sure. What time?"

"It's at Tangier at around 8. Dinner is at 8:30. I could pick you up at 7:30?"

"Actually, I think I'd better meet you there. I have some errands to run after work, and I don't want to make you late. Plus I have to be in early tomorrow."

"Ok. I'll see you there, I guess."

"Great. See you tonight." She nodded and left the bullpen. Don glanced at his own watch and found that he plenty of time to hit the gym before going home to change. After an hour there, he pulled into his apartment complex. He jogged up the stairs to his floor and unlocked the door. Once he got inside, he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and flipped on the TV. He found Sportscenter as he walked into the bedroom. Unpacking his gym bag, he separated his laundry into piles. He pulled a pair of clean jeans, black button-up shirt and a pair of black dress shoes that he hardly ever got the chance to wear from his closet and spread them out on his unmade bed. He added a pair of black socks and a black belt to the clothing that lay across the bunched sheets and comforter.

He stepped back to looked over what he had chosen. He thought it would be acceptable. His concentration was broken by the chirping of his cell phone on the dresser. They caller was Shayne. He hit the ignore button and turned back to his wardrobe. He'd deal with that later, presumably when he showed up to her party with a date. He had debated in his head for most of the day whether or not Vince would attend with her. From what Shayne had told him about the star, he was leaning toward not. Still, he wouldn't be alone and she could read whatever she wanted into that. He'd figure out what sort of future he and Liz had at a later occasion.

Don was getting ready to step into the running shower when his phone rang again. He resisted the urge to turn off the faucet and see who was calling and stepped under the flowing water, letting it wet him completely. He grabbed the shampoo bottle off of the ledge and squirted a dollop into his hand. Rubbing it through his hair, he tried to make sense of his day. In retrospect, his mini-breakdown in the conference room would have been better avoided, so too the conversation with Megan, even though he knew that she understood what he was going through. Don couldn't believe how fallible he had allowed himself to be in front of his team members. He was there to lead them and keep them safe, not for his unchecked emotions to make him a liability. He chastised himself for the breach and swore not to let it happen again. Ever. Now, he just had to make it through the night and he could put the entire month behind him.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Don pulled into the parking lot about a minute before David and Megan arrived. He adjusted the collar of his jacket before approaching them. It was too late for sunglasses, but he really felt they would have been a nice touch. He hit the button on the remote to lock the vehicle and walked over to where David was holding the door open for Megan. The female agent stepped out of the car and onto the asphalt. Don whistled as she stepped into the light of the streetlamp overhead. Her hair was pulled up into a wavy chignon with haphazardly crimped tendrils framing her face. She had on more makeup than Don had ever imagined she even owned, but it was tastefully done, highlighting her features perfectly. Her bronze satin ruffled blouse was belted over dark denim trousers with strappy bronze sandals peeping out beneath the hem. She carried a designer clutch. Don wasn't sure which designer, but he knew he had seen Shayne carry a similar one about a week before. She took David's arm and the three of them strolled toward the door.

Right inside, the hostess directed them to their party. About 15 people had gathered at one corner of the back room where several tables had been set up together. A group had gathered around Colby who undoubtedly was telling them some kind of crazy story. He caught a glimpse of Don and waved them all over to join the crowd. Don directed David and Megan toward the group but hung back to wait for Liz to arrive. He checked his watch and his phone when he saw that she was a few minutes later than he expected. As he opened the phone to dial her number, Shayne emerged from the bathroom and came up behind him placing her hand on his arm. He turned toward the touch, and when he saw her, he closed the phone, his call forgotten.

Her blonde hair was beginning to grow in darker at the roots, he noticed. She wore it in long loose waves, making her look like she'd just come back from the beach. Instead of the severe makeup she'd been forced to wear on the set, her face had a rosy glow to it. Don thought she must have some of that shiny, candy-flavored moisturizer stuff that he'd always wished Robin would wear instead of the long-wear foundation that tasted like chalky soap. She was barely wearing any makeup, just a tiny bit of color and shine in all the right places, but she still took away his breath. As he struggled to regain it, he took in her scent. Even in the short time that they'd known each other, he'd already learned it. It was vanilla and herbal shampoo. Although she sometimes covered it with some sort of spicy perfume, tonight she was all natural. He looked down at her hands, noticing that her nails had been newly manicured. He took his hand to remove hers but instead he ran his finger across the small, smooth ones touching his sleeve.

"It was the first thing I did when we finished this afternoon. The ragged edges were killing me!" she said as she took her hand back from his arm and held it out in front, admiring the work. He couldn't help but smile. She'd been complaining about her jagged nails and torn cuticles the entire time that he'd known her. Bobby had forbidden manicures, saying that her unkempt nails made her seem more like a real person, specifically one who had been stuck in a safe house with a witness for a number of weeks.

She straightened the skirt of her Black Watch Modern Tartan mini dress and ran her the fingers of her left hand through her hair, smoothing it out over her left shoulder as he stood there watching her.

"Stop fidgeting. You look fine," he said, not really smiling anymore.

"Why didn't you come today? We were all expecting you, and then Colby showed up."

Don shrugged. "It didn't seem fair that the whole thing was planned for him and he wasn't going to have any part of it."

"I hope that's the truth. Why don't you come in and join everyone?"

"I'll be in soon. I'm waiting for someone. She's…"

"Running late but finally here," Liz Warner stated as she came up beside the pair. She turned to Don. "I hope you didn't miss anything waiting on me. My errands took longer than I thought they would." She smiled at Don. Then, she turned to Shayne and stuck out her hand. "Hi, I'm Liz Warner, Don's date."

Don quickly jumped in and finished the introduction. "Sorry. Don't mind my bad manners. This is Shayne Carrigan. She was one of the film's leads." He watched Shayne's face carefully as she shook Liz's hand. Don had to hand it to her. Her face betrayed no discernible emotion. He placed his arm around Liz's waist and suggested that they join the rest of the group. Shayne led the way and then dissolved into the crowd. Liz found a seat with Megan, David and Colby as Don walked over to talk to Bobby Devlin.

Devlin shook his head when Don approached him. "How did everything go today?" Don asked the younger man. "Did Colby do ok?"

Bobby rolled his eyes. "He was fine. It all ended up just fine."

"I should have called you. I'm sorry."

Devlin waved off his apology. "As soon as she said that Vince was back I knew why you didn't show."

"I,I,I wanted Colby to have a chance to do the movie, and I had to get back to work," sputtered Don.

"Right. Don't worry, though, no one else thought anything of it. Who's the girl?"

"She's an agent."

"And I thought I was in the right profession to meet women," sighed Bobby. "She sure is stunning. How long have you been seeing her?"

"She just got back from an extended assignment while I was working with you. Today was the first day in over two months that we've seen each other. It isn't anything serious."

Bobby nodded his head. "Whatever, man. I'm not here to judge. You all just have a good time here tonight, ok?" He and Don shook hands.

"Thanks. I'll see you around," Don said as he returned to his FBI colleagues.

Colby had taken charge of the scene and was regaling them all with the tales of his acting experience. David and Megan were collapsing in laughter even before Don made it back to the table. He slid into the seat beside Liz and put his head close to her ear.

"You look great. I'm glad you could make it," he breathed into the dark brown tresses.

She shook out her long curls and smiled at him. "I thought we were going to keep missing one another forever. But I'm glad things have settled down now."

Don nodded. "Did you all catch a good case?" he asked.

"Actually, yeah, I think we did, but I don't want to talk about it tonight. Why don't you tell me a little about the movie, though? These people seem like they'd be a lot of fun to work with."

Don agreed that they had been as he began pointing out various crew members and explaining who they were and what they had done on the set. After he had given her an overview of the crowd, he and David took the ladies' drink orders and headed to the bar. They ordered beers for themselves, a whiskey sour for Megan and a club soda for Liz. As they were waiting for the bartender to return, Shayne walked up with an empty highball glass. She placed it on the bar and Don took the chance to introduce her to David. They shook hands as the bartender returned with their drinks. He'd also brought a vodka and tonic for Shayne. Don suggested that she come over to the table to meet Megan, as well. Shayne agreed and followed them to the other side of the lounge.

David handed Megan her drink, placed his on the table and pulled up an extra seat beside Megan for Shayne. Don introduced the two women who greeted one another warmly. Shayne sat down beside Megan and the two of them quickly fell into conversation. After a few seconds, Liz joined in as well. They were content discussing shoes, bags, hairstylists and shopping. Don, David and Colby, who had rejoined the group in the meantime, quickly excused themselves from the discussion and set out to mingle with the other guests.

"So you really _enjoy_ Pilates? I agree that it's a good workout, but I get so bored while I'm doing it," Don heard Liz ask Shayne as the guys returned a few minutes later. He didn't hear her answer, though, as he handed each of the ladies a fresh drink. Shayne thanked him for the refill but told the girls that she needed to head around the room again. They said goodbye and David, Don and Colby sat back down.

"Are you all finished with the girl talk?" Colby asked before taking a long pull from his beer.

"Zip it Granger. If I had a dollar for every time you guys bored me to death with your analysis of the Chargers run defense, I'd be able to afford my own personal Pilates instructor," snarked Megan. "Liz and I never get to dress up and act like the beautiful women that we obviously are."

Liz laughed and nodded her head in agreement. "I bet she has time to shave her legs every day if she wants to. Can you imagine it, Megan?" All three of the men cringed as Megan admitted that she couldn't.

They ate, drank and had a remarkably good time, and it was close to midnight when David and Megan decided they were going to head out. Colby followed right behind them. Liz stood to leave with the rest of the group. Don walked her to her car but wanted to say goodbye to Joe and Bobby before he left. He kissed her goodnight and told her he'd see her tomorrow. She expressed what a nice time she'd had and let him know that he was looking forward to seeing her in the morning. He waved as she pulled away and walked back inside.

He found Bobby and Joe sitting in a corner of the lounge. Don walked up to them and they offered him a seat. He took it. The two men modified their conversation from technical detail of finishing the movie to something different as to include Don. The topic was Liz. Don assured them that there was really nothing to tell on that front. The three men passed the next hour or so discussing various subjects until Don felt his eyes growing heavy.

"I hate to break up the fun, but I'm a regular working stiff again. I'd better get out of here."

The other two men thanked him for all of his help over the course of the filming and wished him a safe day at work. Don said goodbye and headed toward the door where a more than slightly disheveled and more than slightly drunk Shayne Carrigan was waiting.

"Do you have a ride?" he asked her, realizing that she must have been pounding drinks since the last time he saw her more than three hours earlier.

"I don't remember," she told him as she fiddled with her phone. "I don't know how to work it." She frowned as she handed the device to him. "I think I need to call someone."

"The bartender will call you a cab," revealed Don, placing the phone back in her purse. He picked up her Jimmy Choo sandals from off the floor and hooked them together on the strap of the purse so she wouldn't lose them. "Or Vince. Can't he or one of his people come get you?"

"I don't want to go back to his place tonight. He's mad at me. That's why he didn't come," she explained. "Can't I go to your house?" she pleaded, pulling on his arm to help her stay upright.

"I don't think that's a good idea. Where are the girls you were with earlier?" She shrugged and dropped her purse on the ground in front of him. He bent to pick it up and she nearly fell over him. He shook his head with disgust as he put his arm around her waist and half supported and half carried her to the passenger seat of the SUV, praying that she could hold the contents of her stomach at least until they got to his apartment.

When he pulled into his lot, he helped her out of the car and up the stairs to his place. He unlocked the door, carefully directed her to the couch, and placed an empty wastebasket beside her. He went into his bathroom and closed the door as he changed into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, brushed his teeth and got ready for bed. When he came out of the room, she had collapsed across the couch with her left leg hanging over one arm of the sofa and her hair sprawled out on the far cushion. He thought she must have passed out, but as he approached, he saw that her eyes were still open.

"Are you ok?" he quietly asked.

"The room spins when I close my eyes. I think I'll be sick if I try to sleep now."

"Are you going to be ok, or should I stay out here for a while?" There wasn't really anything but time and sleep that could help her current condition, but he thought she might feel safer with him in the same room.

"I'll be fine. Go to bed. You have to work in the morning."

"Ok, but I'll be right in there if you need anything." He handed her a blanket from out of the closet as well as one of his t-shirts. "Do you want to go to the bathroom or wash up or anything? There's probably an extra toothbrush in the drawer beside the sink in the guest bathroom. I'm sorry I don't have another bed, just the couch."

"It's ok, Don. Go to bed. I'm just going to wash my face and get a drink of water." She seemed a little more lucid now, so he felt better about leaving her alone. He walked back down the hall to his bedroom, closed the door and went to bed.

Shayne raised herself tentatively from her seat and slid her hand along the wall until she reached the bathroom door. She opened the door and switched on the incandescent track lights above the sink. The harsh yellow beams accented the dark circles that were already forming under Shayne's eyes. Searching through the drawers under the sink, she found the toothbrush Don had mentioned as well as a tube of toothpaste. She also found a small container of face soap and a hair band in the medicine cabinet above the sink. She shimmied out of her dress, folded it carefully, and placed it on the edge of the sink. She pulled Don's t-shirt over her head and let the fabric fall around her, finding that it was just long enough to skim the curve her bottom.

With no hairbrush to be found, she vainly attempted to untangle the haphazard mess of hair using her fingers but eventually gave up and tied it back using the hair band from the cabinet. She wondered who had left it. Had it been the dark-complected girl with the pinched face in desperate need of rhinoplasty? What was her name? Liz. That was it. Shayne assumed that was short for Elizabeth, and why in the world you shorten such an elegant name to Liz? There were so many other variations on the moniker that were prettier, more ladylike. But this chick had chosen a career in the FBI, so maybe ladylike wasn't at the top of her to do list. Still, Shayne found it impossible to miss how well she carried herself in heels. Her legs were amazing, sensual and powerful at the same time. She had perfectly formed, well-developed calves, and Shayne guessed that the quadriceps hidden beneath her knee-length skirt were equally impressive. Don had seemed to like her a lot, too. The two of them were so dissimilar, Liz and herself. If he truly liked Liz, what was the chance that he could ever be interested in her? Shayne didn't think it was a very promising one.

She decided not to think about that any longer. Instead, she wet her face and rubbed on the cleanser. She rinsed carefully and dried herself with the towel on the rack to her right. Then, she quickly scrubbed her teeth clean with the new brush and cinnamon toothpaste. After she finished, she collected her clothing, extinguished the light and closed the door behind her. When she arrived back in the living room, she saw that he had left a bottle of water on the coffee table.

No longer feeling intoxicated, she picked up her purse from the floor and fished out her phone. She thought about shooting off a text to Vince, telling him that she wasn't coming home. But then again, why should she? He would have never thought to do the same for her during one of his Extra conquests. Besides, he'd made it fairly clear earlier in the evening that he didn't care where she spent the night, nor with whom. She was back to square one. Never mind. She'd been here before and she wasn't about to let another man in her life tell her who or what or where she needed to be. She began tapping out a message for her agent instead. She'd need something steady and profitable, even if it sucked. Like she said, square one. Talk about a buzz kill. She decided that the only thing left to do was sleep, but this had to be singularly the least uncomfortable couch in the history of the world. She wasn't really tired anyway.

Her phone vibrated beside her. She retrieved it and quickly read over the message. Not ideal, but it was the best her agent could come up with in five minutes at 1:30 am. It would have to do. Now, she just had to figure out what to do until Vince and E were out of the house for their meeting at 9. Babs had done that much for her. Sometimes having a female agent did have its advantages. She heard a noise from inside the bedroom and wondered if Don was having as much trouble falling asleep as she was. She tiptoed down the hall and tapped on the door with her fingertips, more brushing than knocking. Not wanting to overstep her bounds, she waited until her opened it. She hadn't woken him.

"Are you ok?" he asked, squinting at her from the darkness of his room, even though the only burning light was on the end table beside the couch.

"I'm fine, Don. This isn't the first time I've ever been drunk. You won't need to hold my hair back or anything."

"Oh. Right. Then what?" he asked, no longer so concerned, now he was back to just basic annoyance.

"I couldn't sleep, and obviously you can't either," she started.

"Oh, hell no," he interrupted. "What part of 'I'm not letting you cheat on your boyfriend with me' do you not understand? Besides, that girl at the party and me, we're seeing each other."

_Since when!_ She thought as she shrugged her shoulders. "I just came to see if you wanted to watch a movie or TV or something. That's all," she lied. Luckily she was pretty good at that, too.

"I have to be at work by 7:45, so I really have to try to get some sleep, ok?"

"You want a Valium?" she asked him, a little too complacently.

"No, I do not want a Valium, and if you have any with you, you'd better have a valid prescription for them. You can watch a movie or whatever, just keep it low. I'll see you in the morning." He pushed the door shut. She stood there a moment, her hand on the smooth wood finish. This guy was a mystery to her. It seemed like he wanted her when they were together, but when he had the chances to close the deal, he'd blown her off every time, no pun intended. Maybe he really just wasn't into her. She wasn't sure that had ever happened before. When she offered herself to men, they always obliged. This was completely uncharted territory.

Finally, she turned and walked back down the hall to the couch. After she found the remote, she flipped on the TV and watch reruns until she heard Don getting in the shower. Her phone told her it was just after 5:30. She called for a car to take her to the Beverly Hills Hotel, where Babs had arranged for her to check in early, until she could get to Vince's to pick up her car and the rest of her stuff. She found a piece of paper and a pen to leave Don a note thanking him for letting her crash. Such an appropriate word for what had happened here. She folded his shirt and placed it on the coffee table with the note. Then, she smoothed her dress as best she could, slid her feet into her sandals, collected her purse and slipped out of the apartment and down the steps into the street. A few moments later, the car arrived. As she collapsed into the backseat of the Town Car, a little mirthless laugh escaped her lips. She'd always assumed that if she ever did the walk of shame from Los Feliz it would be from north of the Boulevard in the Hills above Griffith Park, not from some smug FBI agent's two bedroom walk-up on Avocado. Even as she though this, she was ashamed of herself. He'd shown her more respect than anyone had in year, definitely more than she had shown him. As she caught her own dingy reflection in the rearview mirror, she realized that she didn't like who she had become. She wondered if the real Shayne was somewhere inside, struggling to emerge from the filth. She wasn't sure, but she knew for certain that she'd never find out in L.A.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Hello All! This little chapter is the final of the first installment of our story. I'm already working on the next one, but it will be a little while before it's ready to go, school and all that. Thanks to everyone who read and especially to those who reviewed. I hope that I have sufficiently laid the foundation to go where I'm planning. Bear with me! Thanks again.

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Chapter 8

Don was used to getting four or five hours of sleep, it was just that he hadn't done it in a few weeks. He guessed he would have gotten a little more last night if he hadn't decided to play Knight in Shining Armor. Why did he keep falling into her traps? Being around her did funny things to him. It had taken just about every milligram of self control he had inside of him to turn her away at his door last night. She was drunk, and they had no business doing anything in his bedroom or anywhere else. He needed to get her out of his head, though. That shouldn't be so hard as soon as they caught a case. Hopefully that would be today.

He shut off the water and grabbed the towel. Since it was Friday, he selected a pair of dark, flat-front Dockers and a button up shirt but no tie. He threaded his belt through the loops, clipped his sidearm into the holster and attached his cell phone, badge and handcuffs. He had to admit he felt a little like Batman with all that stuff jangling from his belt, but who didn't want to be a superhero? He glanced around for his work shoes but remembered that he had left them in the front hallway. He pulled his wallet from the jeans he had worn last night and stuffed it in his back pocket. Before he opened the door, he took a deep breath to compose himself.

Obviously he was more than a little surprised to find the rest of the apartment empty. He picked up the shirt and the note from off the coffee table. She had left the faintest trace of her scent on the shirt, maybe the whole room. Even though he felt a twinge of disappointment in his gut, he knew it was all for the best. He would look at this as a definitive break, and now neither one of them had a good reason to contact the other. Don's life could go back to its usual state of nothingness.

He walked into the kitchen to make some coffee but decided to stop at the Coffee Bean in Beverly Hills on the way instead. He'd pick up a Café Mocha for Liz, too. That was her favorite. The thought of Liz made him smile. He acknowledged the tentative hope that maybe nothingness wasn't the right word for "normal" anymore. If he played his cards right, there'd not only be a second date but many more.

He finished his coffee as he pulled into the parking garage at 7:30. He walked up to the metal detector holding the remaining cup in his hand. Megan stepped up behind him in the line. He blushed slightly as she threw a sideways glance at the piece of Styrofoam.

"Why am I guessing that's not for David or Colby or me?" she whispered as they presented their badges at the door to gain admittance.

"You're really going to ride me about this?" he groaned as they stepped into the elevator with about 10 other people. She bit her bottom lip and wiggled her eyebrows. "I guess you are," he conceded. "That's fine. Do what you need to do, Agent Reeves. I'll just keep it all in mind when Dr. Fleinhardt reenters the atmosphere," he grinned mischievously.

Before she could answer, they arrived on their floor. He stopped to let her walk in front of him toward the bullpen. Once they were inside, they both made their way into the break room where half a dozen agents were filling up their coffee cups. Liz wasn't among them. Don swung back through the door and scanned the maze of cubicles to see which desk she had been assigned. He saw the back of her head in the far left corner of the room, where the rest of Keller's team was stationed. She was alone. Perfect. Don approached quietly and placed the beverage on her desk. She turned on her heel and almost fell into him.

"Oh, you scared me!" she exclaimed as she slowly removed her hands from his chest. "I didn't hear you coming. Were you sneaking?"

"Maybe a little. I brought you some coffee."

"Wow, you braved celebrities and independently wealthy people to bring me this?"

"Nah, they aren't up this early. Just regular old working folks like us."

She picked up the cup and took a drink. "Mocha," she smiled. "My favorite, and this one is good. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I would have liked to see you home last night, so I figured this was the next best thing," he let a small smile escape the side of his mouth, not too expressive, but definitely getting his point across.

"Well, I don't have any plans tonight. You could see me home then," she breathed as she crossed in front of him close enough that her breasts just barely brushed his chest.

He took a step back, shook his head and smiled. "I think that can definitely be arranged. I'll find you later, ok?" he couldn't stop smiling. He could do this. He still remembered how.

"You do that," she purred as she walked out of the cubicle.

Don had to wait a moment, partly so that it didn't look like he was following her, and partly because he was pretty sure he was still blushing. A moment later, he headed back to his team in the conference room.

"So, um, are you going to develop relationships with all of Keller's team or just the ones who look like that?" Colby dared to ask.

Don was in such a good mood, he couldn't even chastise the younger agent. He just shook his head directed them all back to their paperwork. They worked pretty quietly for the rest of the day until Don promptly released them at 5 pm. At lunch time, he had made a 9:00 reservation at Koi. He wasn't sure how, maybe he had gotten some of the movie star perks, but he had and they weren't going to lose it. When he was sure Granger was out the door, he ventured back over to Liz's desk to let her know the details. She told him that she would see him a little later that evening.

On his way out, Don stopped at Megan's desk, where she was still sitting, a pencil clamped between her teeth.

"You have plans tonight?" he asked her.

She removed the pencil. "Why? Did you get stood up?"

He grinned. "I'll allow that from you, but no. I was going to say that you should go to Charlie's. I was there two nights ago, and believe me, they could use the company."

"That's thoughtful, Don, but I can't just invite myself over. I'm not family."

"Ah, suit yourself, but I promise you won't be turned away. I could send some files for Charlie or something."

Megan laughed but shook her head. "I'm ok, Don. What about you?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, trying desperately to be cryptic but knowing that he wasn't pulling it off at all.

"You know what I mean. Did you tie up all your loose ends?"

"Yeah. I did. That's over with."

"Really?"

"Really. I'm totally back to normal, maybe even better than normal."

"I'm glad to hear it. You two kids have fun tonight."

"We'll try, Megan," he said as he headed for the elevator. Then he stopped, "Hey, I'm going to grill at Charlie's tomorrow evening, why don't you stop by? I'm planning on heading over there about 5, so anytime."

"Thanks, Don. I'll give you a call. Good night."

"Good night, Megan."

He was almost to the elevator when Megan called out to him, "Don!" He turned. "I'm glad you're back."

He pressed the down button. "So am I."


End file.
